


A Beauty, a Beast, and a Stiles

by AderaReam



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, No Alan Deaton, Slow Burn, Stiles Stilinski Gets Bitten, We Don't Like Scott Mccall Here, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, season 1 rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-07-03 20:42:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15826563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AderaReam/pseuds/AderaReam
Summary: a season 1 Stallison rewrite where Stiles gets bitten by Peter, the fact that Stiles has been seen on screen talking to people who aren't part of the main cast is addressed, and we cut Deaton out entirely because I hate him.Incomplete but ongoing, I promise. This thing sorta grew a life of it's own and life happened so I wasn't able to finish by the due date, but I thought I should post what I had to keep others from having to wait forever for their requests.





	1. Sensory Overload

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiranightshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiranightshade/gifts).



Ok, so, maybe wandering into the Preserve on his own to look for a dead body-- half a dead body, anyway (and which half was it? He should have thought about that before he left)-- was not his smartest move. He had  _ tried  _ to bring Scott along, but his best friend had somehow become infected with the idea that he could make first line on the lacrosse team this semester and become popular, which, ok, the other boy’s asthma  _ had  _ been getting better recently, but not that much better. Anyway so he was out, at night, alone, in the middle of the woods.

 

Well, alone except for the dead body (top half.)

 

And the fuckoff big  _ thing that had glowing red eyes and oh god it was snarling and…. _

 

The pain was so intense, Stiles couldn’t even scream. He laid there, hands scrambling for purchase in patchy fur (why was it patchy?) needing something, anything, to hold onto as his vision went grey. He could feel something, faintly, in the back of his mind, like something waking up, but he was in too much agony to process, he needed to scream. He latched onto the huge things shoulders, probably not his smartest move but he currently wasn’t at his best what with the furry mess of fangs and claws and  _ red glowing eyes  _ that were currently staring at him. Did he forget to mention the fangs? The ones that were currently in his side and oh god he was going to die.

 

When the big…  _ beast _ , that was the only word Stiles could think of, finally let him go, Stiles couldn’t muster up the energy to to anything but lay there. He just, relaxed. As much as he could with the blinding pain in his side. He stared up at what stars he could see through the branches of the trees and waited. He couldn’t tell you what for: the thing would kill him or it wouldn’t, but Stiles would hurt either way.

 

Maybe this was his punishment, the thought idly crossed his mind, for causing his parents so much pain. His mother had called him a monster and a demon before she had died, maybe this was justice. Maybe it was cruel irony. Maybe it was just coincidence; didn’t matter, he was still going to die.

 

A high whine sounded in the night, and it took Stiles a long while to realize it wasn’t from him. He lifted his head as much as he could. There, on the other side of the little clearing-- could it even be called a clearing? It was more like a patch-- the beast sat on it’s malformed haunches, staring at him.

 

“What?” he asked it tiredly. 

 

The beast whined again and slunk closer, but carefully this time, as if it were afraid to scare him.

 

“Too late for that,” Stiles snorted, “Too late for much of anything probably...”

 

He trailed off when the creature growled at him before it leaned down and licked at his wound, which, huh it only stung a little bit now. Stiles steeled himself for the carnage that he side would be and looked down… to find he was nearly healed.

 

“What.” The beast huffed in what could almost be called amusement-- amusement? Could monsters be amused?-- before it licked his neck and disappeared into the night.

 

Stiles stared after the creature for a long, long time. For long enough that he could hear the police dogs barking and coming his way. He registered that sound and instantly scrambled to his feet and back to his jeep at record pace, desperate to not get caught by his dad and be grounded before school even started.

 

When he got home, he considered taking a shower but something in him decided not to. He wanted to do research on whatever the hell had bit him but he was just so tired, and his dad would know he had been out if he didn’t get to bed soon, so he changed into his pajamas and flopped into bed, falling instantly asleep.

 

He had been too tired to notice that he hadn’t turned on his headlights on the drive home, or the large, black shape that shadowed his movements and watched his window while he slept.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Augh!” Stiles cried, flailing as he fell out of bed. He hit the floor with a thud, instantly curling on his side and covering his ears in an attempt to block out the noise.

 

There were birds, so many  _ fucking birds _ it was like all of the birds in Beacon Hills were gathered outside his window, yelling at him.

 

Stiles scooted himself across his floor, keeping his hands over his ears (for all the good  _ that _ did him) and went over to his window. He dragged himself up and pulled open the window, intent on yelling the birds into submission, but when he looked outside, he blinked.

 

It was still dark, the grey of predawn just settling over the town. The streetlights were still on. There was no cloud of birds Stiles could see, and when he focused, he could only find the nest in the tree next to his window. The nest that had been there for years, containing the birds that had never been a problem before. Stiles twisted to see if there were birds on the roof, but the shingles were empty of avian annoyances.

 

Bewildered, Stiles carefully slid his window closed. He sat back on his haunches. A slight twinge made its way up his side and he looked down. There, on his side, was the pink of newly healed skin with only the barest impression of teeth. The night before hit him all at once, like a red eyed monster, and he heaved thinking of all the blood he lost. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he hadn’t eaten much the night before and his stomach was empty.

When the heaving subsided, Stiles looked over at his alarm clock to check the time.

 

“Augh!” He cried, falling to the floor once more and shielding his eyes. The red numbers of the clock were burned into his retinas, the light far too bright for him to handle. He whimpered tragically as he shuffled over to the clock and ripped the plug out of the wall. Stiles took a few breaths before inching his eyes open. When the room stayed comfortably dim, he let his eyes open all the way.

 

“Ok, so, healing, hearing, and sight are all advanced.” He whispered aloud. It sounded like normal volume to him. Shaking his head slightly, he stood and made his way over to his laptop.

 

Stiles was about to open his computer, but then thought better of it and faced away from the screen. As fast as he could, he muted the volume and turned down the brightness all the way. He marveled at the fact that when he turned back he could still see the screen clearly.

 

“Yeah, there’s definitely something… supernatural going on here.” Stiles murmured. He thought he might know what it was already, but it was a good idea to have his bases covered. Glancing at the corner of the screen, he saw that it was four thirty in the morning. He had time, and so he descended into a spiral of research.

 

Stiles was forcibly pulled from his rabbit hole by the sound of something beating faster. As he focused on the noise, he could nearly feel the two toned thump that signaled a heartbeat. He expanded his awareness slightly, and heard his father shifting and grunting as he got out of bed. Stiles followed his dad’s morning routine, zeroing in on all of the sounds coming from the other room. He could hear every foot fall, the rustle of sheets and of clothing, the tired sigh. The thing (beast,  _ wolf _ ) in the back of his head whuffed and seemed content that its… packmate? Was safe and sound as possible.

 

Because that was what his dad was, now, pack. Stiles had all of the literature (that he could find, anyway) in tabs on his laptop and being spat out of his printer, and all of it came to the same conclusion: he was a werewolf. Whatever bit him was a werewolf, and, if what he had read had even the slightest bit of truth to it, his life was set to get a whole lot stranger, possibly a whole lot awesomer, might end in his premature and incredibly gruesome death. Best not to think about that.

 

The door to his room banged open, his dad framed in the entrance.

 

“Come on Stiles, get…” The man trailed off, blinking at his son.

 

“Mornin’ pops!” Stiles chirped. He hustled his shocked father out of his room, slamming the door. Flinching at the loud noise, Stiles took a deep breath and debated with himself.

 

Did he dare go to school? Could he convince his dad that he shouldn’t? What about telling his dad? No, his dad wouldn’t believe him, not without solid proof, but the only solid proof he had had already healed over and he didn’t have enough control over himself to try and force a shift. Could he even shift? The full moon had already passed last night. Then again, the heightened senses weren’t really going away either.

 

“Oh, god.” He whispered aloud. His senses. He was a highschooler. He was on the  _ lacrosse team.  _ That was one level of hell he did not want to sink to. But then, what about Scott? Scott wanted to make first line, and they were always together. Well, except for last night. But if he healed better and had these better senses, wouldn’t him quitting actually increase Scott’s chances? It would be a hard sell, but if it kept him out of the locker room, he would put up with Scott’s pout.

 

“Stiles! You’re going to be late!” 

 

He flinched at his dad’s yell. Shaking his head, Stiles dug through his wardrobe. He pawed at this and that, upset that he couldn’t wear his favorite shirt, but the smell was too much. Making a mental note to do laundry when he got home he found a blue button down shirt that he never wore and some dark skinny jeans he didn’t remember buying. He threw on the clothes and rushed downstairs, for once not tripping as he landed in the foyer.

 

“Well, look at you.” His dad commented from the kitchen. Noah was holding his coffee and giving Stiles a knowing look. “Trying to impress Lydia?”

 

Stiles flushed. “No I-I- mean not just Lydia,” he stammered, “gotta let the whole school know what they’re missing, right?”

 

The Sheriff chuckled and scooped up Stiles keys to toss them to him. He raised an eyebrow when he caught them easily.

 

“Uhm, gotta go dad, bye!” He drew his dad into a firm, but quick, hug, resisting the urge to rub his face in his dad’s neck (scenting, his mind supplied) before racing to his Jeep and starting it up. “Wow, I really, really need to give you a tune up, and learn to control my hearing.” He spoke to his car as he made his way to school.

  
  
  


“Dude!” Scott yelled when Stiles slid out of his jeep. “What’s up with the outfit?”

 

“Why does everyone keep asking that?” Stiles muttered. Scott just laughed and pounded him on the back. The pair wandered towards the front of the school.

 

“So, gonna try to get Lydia’s attention? If nothing else, you might actually get an acknowledgement.” Stiles shrugged off his friend.

 

“First of all, rude. Second, don’t think I’m not upset with you for ditching me last night.” He wasn’t, not really, considering what had actually happened, but he had to keep up appearances.

 

“Come on man, I’m sorry.” Scott’s puppy eyes were out in full force. “I just really want a chance at first line this year.”

 

“I know buddy,” Stiles sighed. He turned to walk backwards. “It’s just that…. The great Lydia Martin is-” His words and steps cut off abruptly as Lydia passed by without a glance in his direction. She smelled strange. She usually smelled like flowery perfume, but today he smelled lavender and lilies, stone, and something like dust or dry earth. She smelled like a cemetary and the memories that scent evoked had him struggling to hold back tears.

 

“--Stiles!” He flinched at Scott’s yell. Blinking, Stiles drew himself back to the present and stared at his best friend. Scott huffed. “Come on Stiles, just because she didn’t look at you is no reason to cry.”

 

“Fuck you, Scotty.” Was Stiles’ lackluster response. He turned and headed for his locker, hoping to stave off any more conversation just yet.

 

He and Scott both got their stuff from their lockers and headed off to English for first period. Scott was still talking about all of the training he had done over the break and how awesome this years lacrosse season was going to be. Stiles didn’t know how to bring up the fact that he wasn’t playing anymore when his ears started acting up again.

 

A heartbeat. A tinny voice over the phone. He turned to search for the voice and found a dark haired girl outside on a bench. She was beautiful. Not like Lydia with her untouchable shine, but something more natural. Less a diamond brightness and more of a sunlit glow. The rustling of her bag as she looked through it for a pen and the steps of the vice principal as he approached her were as clear to him as if they were happening beside him and not fifty yards away through a window.

 

He absently tracked her by ear as she made her way into the school and down the hallway. The click of the door latch startled him back into his own head, and he shook it out to clear it.

 

“I really need to get better about this.” He mumbled inaudibly. So far, he had done that twice in one day. Although the fact that his wolf decided to hone in on the new girl,  _ This is Allison Argent,  _ was interesting. He turned his attention back to the new girl, trying to puzzle her out. Yes, she was pretty, but why had the wolf taken an interest in some girl he didn’t know? Was it because she was a new person in his territory? Had the wolf decided she was pack?

 

Allison sat down right behind Scott. Stiles smirked at his best friend, whose crooked jaw was nearly to the floor. He snorted and decided to be a good friend, sneaking an extra pen onto Scott’s desk, before turning around to face the front. He watched the interaction out of the corner of his eye, though.

 

“Hi.” Allison whispered, giving Scott a small smile.

 

Scott’s jaw snapped shut and he stuttered out a “Hi,” in return.

 

It seemed Allison was rather used to this reaction from her carefully withheld sigh. She turned to her bag to get her notebook out before she looked back up and sheepishly asked to borrow a pen.

 

Scott flailed momentarily before slamming his hand down on the extra Stiles had given him and handed it over to Allison. She thanked him with a dimpled smile and he gave her the world’s dopiest grin before turning around.

 

Stiles watched as his best friend spent the entire rest of the period daydreaming about his first ever crush.

 

“You’re adorable.” He teased as they walked out of class. Well, Stiles walked, Scott floated.

 

“Her name is Allison Argent.” Scott sighed dreamily. “Even her name is beautiful.”

 

Stiles didn’t thing clairvoyance was a werewolf thing, but he could see a lot of gushing and pining chats in their future.

 

“And think, buddy,” He slung an arm around Scott’s shoulders, “She’s new, so she doesn’t know how much of a loser you are! All you have to do is ask her out before she can figure it out.”

 

“Ask her out!” Scott squawked, flailing out from under Stiles’ arm. “How could I do that? She’s, She’s perfect and I’m…”

 

“Completely in love with her at first sight?” Stiles suggested. He was hit over the head for his efforts. “Just talk to her, at least she knows you exist.” And he was surprised by how… not bitter the end of that sentence was. Was one whiff all it took to erase nearly ten years of obsession? He could almost feel his wolf huff in agreement from the back of his head, before it curled up and covered its nose with its tail. Stiles couldn’t fault it for that, high school was rank.

 

“Yeah, ok, sure Stiles.” Scott huffed opening his locker, “Except that it’s already too late. Look.” He flapped a hand down the hallway.

 

Stiles could feel his ears betray him yet again as he turned to see Lydia approach Allison at the new girl’s locker. He heard Lydia declare the girl her new best friend, and Allison (for some reason) fend off an invite to Lydia’s party on Friday. The slam of Allison’s locker sent Stiles once again tumbling back into his own head as he stumbled where he stood.

 

“You ok Stiles?” Scott tilted his head in a puppyish manner.

 

“Yeah, I’m cool man.” Stiles assured.

 

“I’ll say.” A voice came from behind him, startling Stiles forward into Scott. When he regained his footing and turned it was to see the familiar face of Harley, one of Lydia’s outer circle-adjacent people, looking him over.

 

“Hey, Harley?” He didn’t mean for it to come out as a question.

 

“Hi, Stiles right?” She raised an eyebrow giving him another once over. 

 

He felt his face heat as he nodded.

 

“Anyway, do either of you have an idea why the new girl is already being picked up by Lydia?” Stiles could smell what was probably bitterness wafting off of Harley. He felt for her, she had been trying to catch Lydia’s attention for almost as long as he had.

 

“Because she’s hot?” He replied.

 

“She really, really is.” Scott agreed, the dreamy look back on his face.

 

Harley shot Stiles a look, which he returned wholeheartedly.

 

“You should dress like this more often Stiles.” Harley had apparently decided a topic change was in order. “It suits you.”

 

“You think?” He looked down at himself. He had to admit, he did look pretty good.

 

“Yeah, it’s good. Except…” She held her hands out to Stiles.

 

He gave her a look but held out his arms to her. Harley grasped his wrists and unbuttoned his sleeves, first right, then left, rolling them up to just above his elbows. After she was done, she stepped back and surveyed him once more.

 

“There we go. Perfect. You’d knock anyone dead.” She grinned at him. Then paused as Lydia and Allison walked past them. Allison did actually give Stiles a second glance, but Lydia was as immovable as ever. When they passed, Harley corrected. “You’d knock almost anyone dead.”

Stiles and Harley said their goodbyes and exchanged numbers with a promise to talk more, and went their separate ways to class. Toting his still drooling friend to math, Stiles surreptitiously (for him, anyway) scanned the surrounding students. He did, in fact, turn quite a few heads, he thinks he may have even seen a dropped jaw or two. Stiles spent the rest of the school day flying just as high as Scott did.

 

Just as he was climbing into his Jeep, a sharp bang on the hood startled him. He yelped, flailing back and landed his ass on the concrete.

 

“Sorry, man.” Scott looked torn between apology and laughter. “But you almost missed lacrosse practice bro!”

 

The other boy hauled him to his feet and began dragging him in the direction of the field. Stiles set his feet and pulled back, accidentally slamming Scott into his chest. The shock and added weight overbalanced them and had the two high schoolers hitting the ground in a heap.

 

“Fuck, you’re heavy.” Stiles groaned. Shoving Scott off of him, he was incredibly grateful for his advanced healing taking care of what would be an epic bruise on his back.

 

“What was that about?” Scott asked fumbling into a kneeling position. Before Stiles could answer, a pair of legs (a very nice pair of legs) entered his vision.

 

“Are you guys alright?” Said the girl attached to the legs. From the dopy look that Scott’s face seemed to be stuck in, the girl was Allison.

 

“We’re fine.” He said, taking the hand Allison gave him to help him up. “Just lost our balance.” Now that he was standing, he could see that he was a few inches taller than her. Also, her hair was very shiny. And soft looking. And smelled like cinnamon.

 

“Well, I’m glad you’re ok.” She said, dimpling a smile at him. Stiles gave her a grin back.

 

“Um.” Scott interrupted, back on his feet. 

 

Stiles startled back a few steps from where he was still in Allison’s space and looked over at his best friend. 

 

The other boy looked between the two of them suspiciously for a second, before he was back to his affable puppy dog nature.

 

“Well, we better get to practice Stiles.” Scott said. “Before coach has us running suicides ‘til we die.”

 

“Oh… yeah… I forgot to mention, Scotty.” Stiles flailed internally, looking for an excuse. “I-- I’m not playing lacrosse this year.”

 

“What?!” Scott yelped. “Why not?”

 

“Because, I was planning on getting a job.” He replied.

 

“But Stiles,” out came the pleading puppy eyes “we always said we’d do lacrosse together and try for first line together! You can’t just leave me!”

 

“I’ll still cheer for you at the games Scotty.” Stiles pat his friends arm consolingly.

 

Scott wasn’t having it. “But I have a job AND I play lacrosse! Why can’t you do both?”

 

_ Because I would rather wander through actual hell than deal with the smell of those locker rooms with enhanced senses, and being a werewolf is my extracurricular activity. _ Except he couldn’t really say that.

 

“Because… because…” his eyes caught on his Jeep, “Because I need a lot of hours if I’m going to afford to fix up Roscoe.”

 

Scott turned to look at the powder blue car, then back at Stiles with a question on his face.

 

“Yeah,” Stiles warmed to the excuse, “plus, you know that my dad is still drowning in hospital bills. Not to mention trying to find the money to go to college. Yeah it’s two years away, but it’s expensive, dude. I feel bad that I haven’t helped out, you know? So I’m going job hunting.”

 

Scott blinked at him. Allison blinked at him.

 

“Well, at the very least I know MY dad would approve of your sense of responsibility.” Allison broke the silence, stepping away from the two of them. “Good luck on the job hunt… uh…”

 

“Oh, Stiles.” He replies.

 

“Stiles. Good luck.” Then she turns to Scott. “ Good luck to you too, on the lacrosse tryouts.” Allison made her way over to where Lydia was waiting impatiently, and the two girls wandered over to the stands.

 

“... you’re staring at her ass, aren’t you.”

 

“Yep!” Scott replied and bumbled off towards the field.

 

Stiles heaved a sigh of relief and sent a silent thank you to Allison, before getting back in his Jeep and driving off. Now that he thought about it, getting a job would definitely be a good idea, and it would be a good test of his control of his senses…. Once he got some control over his senses. He made his way home, determined to google ways to hone his senses, and if there was anyone hiring in Beacon Hills.


	2. World's Fastest Job Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets a job, mentor, and a new friend in the space of about an hour.

Stiles was tackled the next morning as he made his way to his locker.

 

“Dude!” Scott shouted. “Dude I made first line!” He hit Stiles in the shoulder several times before the other boy shrugged him off.

 

“That’s great bro!” Stiles replied. “Good for you! I’ll be sure to cheer extra loud.” He opened his locker and got out his books for class. A bang beside him made Stiles jump. He turned to see Jackson shove Scott against his locker.

 

“What the hell is up with you McCall?” Jackson growled.

 

Stiles growled louder. He ripped Jackson off of Scott and threw him to the other side of the hallway. Jackson smashed against the lockers and slid to the floor in a heap. He blinked up at Stiles. Stiles bared his teeth.

 

“What’s up with you, Jacks, I thought we had an understanding?” He couldn’t quite keep the growl out of his voice, could feel his gums itching and his eyes doing... something. And his hands. Quickly balling his fists and spinning back to his own locker, he checked that he had what he needed, shut it, and shoved Scott off to class. If Stiles had looked back at where Jackson was still sitting on the floor, he would have seen his shock morph into a shrewd speculation.

 

“Bro, what the hell?” Scott asked as they sat in their usual seats. “What do you mean understanding?”

 

“Don’t worry about it, it happened before you came to Beacon Hills.” Stiles glanced at his friend briefly before his gaze flicked back to the door. “Let’s just say there is a reason Jackson doesn’t really bully me.” Why was he watching the door?

 

“.... Oooooookay.” Scott replied, also watching the door.

 

Stiles could feel himself hone in on Allison as she walked into class. Dimly aware of Scott’s verbal fumbling beside him, he tried to make sense of his seeming obsession with the new girl. He also tried not to stare like a creep. All of his senses were focused on her, on the way she smelled like the preserve after heavy rain mixed with honey and cinnamon, on the steady beat of her heart. He vaguely wondered if his wolf wanted to kill her, but that definitely didn’t seem right.

 

The school bell jolted Stiles out of his thoughts and he sighed at a wasted class period. Scott floated down the hall after Allison, and Stiles huffed before catching up to direct his best friend to his actual destination.

 

After school, Stiles drove downtown for his interview at the local used bookstore. This was one time that he was grateful to have been held back twice, because he was 18 and old enough to work at a bookstore instead of a cafe or clothing store. He walked into Treasures with his head high and wearing some of his nicer clothes.

 

“You’re hired, can you start tomorrow?”

 

Stiles blinked. He looked over behind the counter of the little cafe in the corner at an older woman who must have been the owner. The owner was short and broad shouldered, with muscular arms and hands that could rival Stiles’ own for breadth. She was dressed simply in a button-down and jeans, but her hair was in a rainbow of braids sweeping around the side of her head and into a large knot at the back. Her most arresting features were her bright, dark eyes and her face that seemed prone to smirking with mischief than doing anything else. She had a rag underneath her hand on the counter and a nametag that read “Margo.”

 

“... Excuse me?” He finally squeaked out.

 

“I said, you’re hired. Can you start tomorrow?” She blinked innocently at him.

 

“... I’m not usually one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this seems a bit….”

 

The woman barked a laugh. “Oh, don’t worry Stiles, I know who you are, and I know that you’ll work hard.” She smiled at him.

 

“Uhhh.” Stiles blinked, completely wrong footed. She must have seen this because she chuckled lightly and came out from behind the counter.

 

“Look, Stiles, you know that everyone in town knows your father, and I know you from what I’ve seen over the years when you visited the shop. Not to mention, you and my daughter, Harley, have been classmates for years after all.” She laughed. “In fact, when I told her you applied, she said “Yes! Now I won’t have to work two jobs for half pay.””

 

“What?” Stiles was mildly horrified. Mrs. Thompson laughed again.

 

“Oh, no, don’t worry, she works-- worked-- for me here in Treasures, and for my wife Claire, in our other store, Haven, because we needed the help and she needed the money. Besides she only ever worked when the shop gets really busy.” Mrs. Thompson gave him a dimpled smile.

 

“Your wife owns the occult shop next door?”

 

“Yep!” Mrs. Thompson replied, cheerily popping the “p” as she did so.

 

“Oh…” Stiles trailed off. He would have to check that out, see if anything was real.

 

The pair settled Stiles employment after that and suddenly, Stiles had a job. He wandered next door to Haven and poked his head in. The claustrophobic space somehow drew you in, commanding you come completely inside. Shelves filled the space, covered with all manner of paraphernalia that one might expect to find in a witches home, or a fortune teller's booth. Crystals and crystal balls, decks of tarot cards, bundles of incense lined the shelves. Stiles’ footsteps made no sound as he paced the tight-packed aisles of the shop, wandering from one curiosity to the next. He came up to a shelf lined with various herbs only to back away hurriedly after a horrible sneezing fit. He covered his nose and came back to read the label on the unpleasant herb.

 

“Wolfsbane/ Aconite/ Monkshood - purple strain.” He read out, rubbing his nose in discomfort. Turning away to look at the crystal balls, he nearly ran into Harley who stood behind him. “Oh, hi Harley!” He greeted.

 

Harley looked at him strangely, before spinning on her heel and disappearing down an aisle. Stiles watched her go in bemusement. After a few seconds, his head shot up. He spun around to face the shelf of wolfsbane. He spun again to face where Harley had gone. Dots connected.

 

“Shit.” He hissed, and made for the door.

 

“Not so fast, Stiles.” Harley called out. 

 

Stiles debated leaving anyway, but a gentle hand on his arm had him looking up to see Harley smiling at him.

 

“You’re fine, Stiles, I just went to get my mom and tell her that we need to reshelf the wolfsbane. Sorry for scaring you.” She at least had the decency to look a bit ashamed.

 

“Are you a witch?” He blurted.

 

“I’m in training.” She beamed. “Thanks for taking the job at Treasures, now I get to spend more time learning magic from Mom.”

 

“Know where I could find someone to teach me how to werewolf?” He asked helplessly.

 

Harley’s face clouded over. She bit her lip and shifted back on her feet. It seemed to Stiles that an age passed before Harley let out a deep sigh and grabbed hold of his arm to drag him into the back of the shop. She towed him up the back stairs and into a spacious apartment. Guiding him to a nearby couch, she sat him down and told him to stay, with the requisite giggle, before going back downstairs.

 

Gazing around the room, he noted that it wasn’t really what he expected a witches house to be like. Then again, he hadn’t really given it much thought beyond what Disney had taught him. The walls were a nice cream color, except the one on the far end which was burgundy. They were covered with posters and photos of family and friends, all of them set in nice, simple frames. There were hanging potted plants in both of the windows and a few on the false mantle above the TV. The couch on which he was seated was plush and expensive brown leather, flanked by a side table on one end and a recliner sitting kitty-corner facing the front door. Glancing over the coffee table books, his attention snagged on a cover that seemed to shift as he looked at it. Intrigued, Stiles bent over to get a better look. The cover resolved itself into a thick magazine with the title “Morgana” emblazoned (literally-- the words were glowing) at the top and a picture of a witch using chemistry equipment (and adhering to proper safety standards) below. 

 

He was about to pick up the magazine to read the table of contents when his ears perked up at the sound of returning footsteps. He scrambled up off of the couch to make a good impression and nearly brained himself on the coffee table in the process. Righting himself, he had just enough time to smooth down his clothes a bit before the door popped open and Harley and her other mom entered. 

 

This mother was obviously not Margo, although she also had broad shoulders. Harley’s other mother was tall and strong, built like a runner, her height exacerbated by her four-inch-heels. She had on a simple dress underneath a lab coat, and her hair was cut into a short afro. Her skin was much darker than both Harley and Margo, however her eyes were an icy blue. Here was a woman that Stiles could 100% believe was a witch from sheer presence alone.

 

“Uhm. Hi?” Stiles squeaked.

 

The imposing woman looked Stiles over with keen eyes. It took him a moment to realize that her eyes were  _ actually  _ glowing electric blue, and it wasn’t just her intense gaze.

 

“You seem to be a new beta werewolf.” Her voice was smooth, and would be calming in other circumstances. Her eyes went back to their normal hue. “Where is your alpha?”

 

“Oh, you mean the thing that bit me?” Stiles asked. He shrugged. “Somewhere in the preserve, probably, I’ve got no clue.”

 

The woman hissed.

 

“You don’t know who your alpha is? How are you not insane?”

 

“People have been asking that since before I got a supernatural upgrade.” Stiles chuckled lightly and without humor, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m doing alright, I think, it’s kinda similar to learning how to deal with my ADHD, except ADHD never gave me violent tendencies. The sensory hyperfocus is familiar though.”

 

The woman watched him with searching eyes, head cocked ever so slightly to the side. Eventually, she blinked and strode towards him.

 

“Hello, My name is Claire Thompson, resident witch of Beacon Hills and lower member of the Tribunal. I think you should tell me exactly what happened.” Stiles stared at her for a moment before hesitantly taking her outstretched hand.

 

“I’m Stiles.” He said. The three of them sat down, Stiles and Harley on the couch, Claire in the recliner, and Stiles told the two witches (witch and witch in training) exactly what had happened.

 

Stiles sat back once he finished his explanation and tried not to feel like he was awaiting judgement. Claire watched him for a moment before pulling out a yearbook from the shelf underneath the coffee table. She flipped through it until she found a page and turned the book around to show him.

 

“Is this the girl you saw in the woods?” She pointed to a picture near the bottom of the page.

 

Stiles leaned forward a bit to look. He snapped back as he recognized the girl. He launched himself forward and tracked her picture to the name at the side of the page.

 

“Laura Hale.” He breathed. He breathed again. His vision clouded.

 

Clair snapped the book closed.

 

Stiles blinked at her, vision back to normal.

 

“I don’t need a panicked werewolf pup in my home.” She said blandly.

 

“Mom!” Harley cried.

 

“Hush, he’s fine.” She replied. “Now, from your description of the wolf who bit you, you’ll have your work cut out for you on learning control. Pack and being around pack is important for the stability of wolves. The more pack you have, and the more time you spend around them, the safer, stronger, and more stable you are. If my guess is right, your alpha is Peter Hale, who has been horribly wounded and alone for the past six years. Somehow, he got out of the hospital and bit you, and probably killed Laura.”

 

“What?!?!?” Stiles and Harley yelled in unison.

 

“She was next in line to be alpha when Talia was alive.” Claire explained. “I was in a pack when I was younger, not the Hale pack, but I know that Alpha werewolves are not supposed to leave any pack member behind. For Laura to do that means that Peter became an omega, a lone wolf, who only has a tenuous grip on sanity.”

 

“Add that to the trauma of nearly burning alive, and watching his entire pack die…” Stiles mumbled to himself. He could feel his wolf pacing in the back of his head, whipping its tail and baring its teeth at the thought of leaving pack/family behind. Especially pack that was  _ hurt. _

 

“I don’t know if he killed Laura on purpose or if she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Claire continued, “and I don’t really care. However, if you want to not become omega yourself, you are going to need to help bring Peter back to himself.” Her gaze grew slightly distant. “I remember him, before the fire. A clever man and a strong wolf, he had the most impeccable control of his instincts and senses that I’ve ever seen.” She came back to herself, drilling her stare into Stiles. “He would be a good alpha, if you can get him there. I believe you have already started.”

 

“Really? How?”

 

“You said that he whined and licked you when your thoughts turned depressing.”

 

“Yes…” Stiles replied, not sure where this was going.

 

Claire rolled her eyes. “He tried to comfort you as instinct dictates. He hasn’t lost all of his empathy, which means that healing from his trauma is an option.”

 

“So what do I do?”

 

“Be there for him. Visit him, talk to him, help him.” She explained.

 

“But you said he murdered Laura,” Stiles said, “even if she might have deserved it by werewolf standards, what if he wants me to help kill other people? I don’t think I could do that, even if they did deserve it.”

 

“You are the son of the sheriff.” Claire pointed out. “Perhaps rather than vengeance, you can help him get justice.”

 

_ The fire. _ His dad had always said that there was something strange about the Hale fire. But he was a deputy at the time and only recently back on duty after his leave of absence to mourn his wife, so there had been nothing he could do. If the fire was actually  _ murder _ because the Hales were  _ werewolves _ then…

 

“Thank you, Claire, for your help.” Stiles said as he got to his feet. “I think I’m going to visit Peter sometime soon.”

 

“Good. Also, come by after your shift at Treasures and I can help you with some breathing exercises to help with your emerging instincts. Harley can give you my number; please call me if you need any help.” Claire turned to her daughter. “Harley, you should go with him to visit Peter. Being part of a pack is a good experience for a witch, and if Peter can be brought back to even a shadow of how he was, it would be an excellent one.”

 

“... Okay, sure. Text me when you plan on going.” Harley said to Stiles. He nodded in reply.

 

“Will do.”

  
  


The next week was spent settling in his new routine. School (try not to stare at allison, or breath in too many of Scott’s pheromones-- it was just  _ gross _ ), Treasures, then up to the Thompson apartment to stare at himself in a mirror for hours to learn how to control his shift. His evenings were spent trying to get his dad (pack) to spend time with him, homework, and investigating the Hale fire, which grew increasingly frustrating after day two when he had dug up all of the information on file. There was suspiciously little.

 

Stiles’ frustration dragged him out for the last part of his routine: running. His restless energy was at an all time high after being bit, and since he no longer had lacrosse, he turned to taking late night runs in the preserve. He didn’t think about the potential danger, he barely even thought about the last time he had been in the preserve. He breathed in the clean air of the woods and felt like he was home.

 

He took off running into the trees, marveling at how well he could move in the dark. His night vision and new reflexes, along with the calming effect of the woods, launched him to new heights of grace. He bounded through the underbrush, leaping over bushes and downed trees, letting his wolf guide him. He chased rabbits out of their hiding spots and reveled in his freedom. Eventually, he calmed down his erratic freerun and slowed to a loping stride. He looked around to find himself in a familiar clearing.

 

The lack of the body was the first thing he noticed. The second was the pair of bright blue eyes glinting out from the trees. He flashed his own gold eyes at the other wolf, but, curiously, wasn’t afraid.

 

A roar sounded from behind him. His wolf perked up at the sound, and urged him to call out an answer. The blue eyed wolf startled at the sound, turning tail and disappearing into the preserve. Stiles let him go, and made his own way towards home. He had responded to his alpha, but he still wasn’t ready to meet someone so potentially dangerous while he still lacked control. At the very least, he wanted to wait until the new moon.

  
  


Stiles had to beg and plead with Claire before she would let him go to the lacrosse game.

 

“But my best friend made first line!” he cried. “I promised that I would be there to cheer him on! I don’t break a promise.” He stared her down, unwilling to let even the slightest bit of the wolf slip out, he needed her to see he could mostly control it if she was going to let him go.

 

“He’s right, you know.” Harley chimed in from where she was seated on the counter, alternating between watching the fight before her and messing around on her phone. “He really never does break a promise. It would be super suspicious.”

 

Her mother rounded on her. Harley blinked innocently. “Besides, it would be a good test for both of us. Him for his instincts, and me on being able to control a werewolf if he goes haywire.”

 

Claire narrowed her eyes. Her gaze shifted from Harley to Stiles and back. After what seemed like an age, she sighed.

 

“Fine, but know that I will be keeping a very close eye on both of you.”

 

Stiles whooped and high-fived Harley, and they started making plans to sneak in as many snacks as possible. Margo came in from closing up Treasures and joined the contraband snack conversation. Claire gave an exasperated huff, but smiled at the trio. She even threw in a few ideas herself.


	3. Lacrosse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets his first real test in control via a lacrosse game.

That friday evening was the first lacrosse game of the season. Harley and Stiles took their seats in the middle of the stands, with Harley’s moms behind them. Stiles was both upset and relieved that his dad couldn’t make it, but he was still working on Laura Hale’s murder.

 

Stiles shook himself, reaching into Harley’s purse and pulling out a handful of popcorn from the gallon bag she had brought. Hu munched and playfully tried to keep his twizzlers away from her, before relenting and handing over a few. She grinned at him and tore off a chunk, chewing happily as she turned her attention back towards the field.

 

“I really wish they would get some girl members,” She commented.

“What, are you in the market for an Amazon warrior girlfriend?” Stiles asked. She laughed, shoving him.

 

“Come on, Stilinski, you know there’s only one girl for me.” 

 

“Oh, I thought the two of you were together.” Came another voice. The pair turned to see Allison standing in the row ahead of them with Lydia, who was holding a “We <3 you, Jackson” sign, standing beside her, looking as if she were about to insist on moving elsewhere as to not become infected with loser.

 

“Ha, no.” Harley snorted. “This one and I were in competition until recently.” She shook her head. “Poor boy, winter break did a number on him, isn’t that right?”

 

“Something like that.” Stiles scratched the back of his head, glancing at Lydia before quickly refocusing on Allison. She looked adorable in her coat and beanie, and  _ whoa, brain, Scott’s first crush equals off limits. _

 

His wolf huffed at him. He restrained a scowl. Stupid, confusing instincts.

 

“What about you? Has Scott asked you out yet?” Stiles asked, redirecting before Allison could ask who he and Harley were talking about.

 

Allison sat on the bench with an adorably confused expression. “Who?”

 

“Scott.” Stiles said. “About this tall, dark brown hair, kinda looks like a puppy, on the lacrosse team?” Still nothing, “He sits in front of you in English.”

 

“Oh! The guy who works at the vet! Yeah, he asked me out, but I don’t really know him, you know?” She said. “It just feels kinda weird.”

 

“Fair enough, I guess, but he is a really nice guy.” Stiles replied.

 

“Oh, I’m sure he is, but I’d just… rather make friends before diving into a romantic relationship, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I get that.” He said, resisting the urge to glance at Lydia, who he could feel staring daggers at him. He dragged a hand over his hair, “That’s a really good policy, actually. Mind if I borrow it?”

 

Allison laughed, “Sure. As long as I can get some twizzlers.”

 

“That’s extortion!” Stiles squawked, but he laughed too, handing over a couple pieces of candy.

 

Harley attacked him from the side with some popcorn, claiming unfairness and preferential treatment.

 

Lydia stopped them before it could devolve into an all out food fight. “If you are all done acting like children,” she said, picking pieces of popcorn out of her hair, “the game is about to start.”

 

Allison, Harley, and Stiles all gave each other sheepish grins before facing back towards the field.

 

Stiles was hard pressed to watch the game and keep control at the same time. Every time Scott got the ball, he was up and shouting, desperately trying not to let his eyes flash. The second hand adrenaline from watching made his gums itch and his fingertips tingle, but he didn’t slip. Not even when Allison consented to help Lydia hold that  _ ridiculous _ sign.

 

However, he couldn’t stop the low growl that escaped him when Jackson tripped up Scott.

 

“Whoa, calm down Stilinski!” Harley would have sounded teasing, if it wasn’t for the way she held her hand out, ready to restrain him or the slightly wary glint in her eyes. Thankfully, Allison didn’t notice.

 

“They are on the same team! I think he’s got a right to get upset!” She pouted, refusing to help Lydia hold the sign anymore.

 

“True, but Jackson’s always been a douche,” Harley shrugged, “I really don’t get why he’s so popular.” She continued, knowing exactly why he was so popular.

 

Stiles, Allison, and Harley all turned to Lydia, who was still cheering for her boyfriend.

 

“Really, she’s like a caricature of herself.” Harley mumbled, knowing only Stiles would hear.

 

“Yeah, well, it’s her who will decide whether to drop the mask or not,” Stiles replied. Now that he had begun thinking more clearly, he realized that the way she characterized herself was probably to ward off creeps like he was, framing herself as the untouchable queen bee, but with all the meditation he’d been doing, he realized how uncomfortable that must be. He also realized that he shouldn’t be judging her decisions on how to live her life like he was. 

 

He did, however, think it was his right to join Harley in her heckling of Jackson. Lydia was glaring murder at them the whole time, her death scent turning acidic. It was an interesting counterpoint to Allison, who seemed to be trying to keep a straight face at their antics, her withheld mirth adding an almost chocolaty tinge to her cinnamon scent.

 

When Scott scored the winning goal, Stiles cheered the loudest. He completely forgot about the wolf as he jumped up on the bleachers and shouted in glee. Harley and Allison laughed at him, and Lydia spared some of the daggers meant for him to send them at Scott.

 

The four of them made their way onto the field, Stiles carelessly shoving his way through with the three girls following in his wake. He barrelled into his best friend and grabbed him up in a bear hug, lifting him off of his feet for a moment. Yelling with everyone else.

 

After everything had calmed down, Stiles thanked Harley and Claire for their support.

 

“Overall, you did very well,” Claire said. “Keep working, and maybe you might even be able to rejoin the team.” Her eyes twinkled.

 

“No thanks.” Stiles scrunched up his nose. “I already have to deal with the locker rooms during gym, I don’t want to deal with that smell any more than I have to.”

 

Harley and her mom both laughed. 

 

The three said goodnight and Harley and Claire headed out.

 

Stiles turned to go talk to Melissa when he sensed someone looking at him. He scanned the crowd before finding a pair of dark brown eyes focused on him. He made his way towards the parking lot and stopped a few feet away from Allison. The pair stared at each other for a moment.

 

Allison took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about Lydia, and what Jackson did to your friend…”

 

Stiles watched her pick at her fingernails, dumbfounded.

 

“Why?” he asked, “None of that’s on you. Jackson’s douchebaggery especially.”

 

“Yeah well--” she paused, a bit flustered “I just thought that someone should, you know? I mean Lydia is my friend so…”

 

“You know she doesn’t have to be, right?” Stiles interrupted. “Like, I’m sure you know that intellectually, but nothing’s stopping you from not being her friend, so long as you don’t mind not being popular.”

 

“Oh, I don’t care about that.” She said. “But it’s just that… Well, I just, I don’t really have any right now that aren’t Lydia or Lydia adjacent.” 

 

“I could be your friend.” He offered. “I’m definitely not Lydia adjacent. And also not popular. I have, like, three friends, and one of them is my boss.”

Allison giggled at his admission, and he chuckled lightly. She sighed.

 

“The problem is, is that I’ve seen Lydia, when she’s not around Jackson or at school and I see this… this…”

 

“Potential?” Stiles tried.

 

“That’s it!” Allison cried out, snapping and pointing her fingers at him. “Lydia’s got so much potential to be a fantastic person, and I want to see that happen.”

 

“Believe me, I know. I’ve always known she could be great if she got rid of Jackson and started being herself. She’s got a 140 IQ and is an absolute genius when it comes to math. But she’s not going to get any better as a  _ person _ ” he stresses “if you are the one making excuses and apologizing for her.”

 

Allison looks at him for a long moment. She goes for so long without blinking, Stiles actually gets a bit worried for her.

 

“Lydia was the one that you and Harley used to ‘compete’ over, isn’t she.” Allison’s face does something weird when she says that.

 

“Uh, yeah, kinda.” He rubs a hand through his hair, staring at his shoes. “Although it can’t really be a competition when the girl in question doesn’t know either of you exist.”

 

“Or pretends that she doesn’t.”

 

“Yeah, or that.” Stiles lets out a slow breath. “Looking back at the last few years at how I’ve treated Lydia, I can admit I was pretty creepy.” His face hardens. “But that doesn’t excuse her actions either.”

 

Stiles couldn’t decipher the look in Allison’s eyes. She opened her mouth to speak.

 

“Hi guys!” Scott interrupted.

 

Allison startled at the sudden intrusion.

 

“Hey buddy, great game!” Stiles grinned, slapping Scott on the shoulder. He nodded in greeting to Melissa who came up behind Scott.

 

“Did you see? I got the winning goal!” Scott turned to Allison. She smiled at him, telling him she saw.

 

“It was so great! Coach even talked about making me co-captain!” He continued.

“Co-captain?!?” Melissa broke in, “This calls for celebration! Pizza’s on me.” Scott and Stiles both cheered. Melissa turned to Allison, “Are you coming too....”

 

“Oh! I’m Allison. Argent.” Allison said. “And thank you, but no, I really should be getting home.” She said a quick goodnight to all of them and got in her car.

 

Stiles had to snap in front of Scott’s face a few times before Scott came back to awareness.

 

Melissa sidled up next to her son. “Soooo, Allison Argent?”

 

Stiles cackled as his friends face turned as red as his jersey.


	4. A perspective shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Allison's turn for some narration time, at least for most of this chapter....

After the game, Scott was grudgingly added to Lydia’s social circle. Lydia, Allison, Jackson, and Danny all congregated at what used to be Stiles’ and Scott’s table. When Stiles and Harley showed up, they both glanced at each other.

 

“... you wanna try somewhere else?” Harley asked.

 

“Please.” Stiles scrunched up his nose and turned to head for the outer edges of the cafeteria, Harley close at his heels.

 

She slowed down when she saw where he was heading.

 

“What?” He asked, turning to look at her.

 

Harley blinked at him, nonplussed. “.....”

 

“ _ What? _ ” He demanded.

 

“It’s just… that’s Boyd’s table.”

 

“Yes, I know.” Stiles huffed. “But we can sit at the other end. It’ll be fine.” To be honest, his wolf was rather nervous about encroaching on what it saw as Boyd’s ‘territory’ but he also didn’t want to deal with any randos. He knew Boyd, sort of, and he knew Boyd probably wasn’t going to say anything.

 

Stiles set his tray down at the opposite end of the table from Boyd, and Harley gingerly sat across from him, shooting hesitant looks down the table at Boyd, who was staring back.

 

“See, it’s cool.” Stiles said, trying to put Harley at ease. She shot him a doubtful glance, but relaxed. The two of them ate their fries in relative silence, because they were only good when they were hot.

 

When they finished, Harley insisted on Stiles eavesdropping on different conversations.

 

“Why?” He asked, amused.

 

“Because--” She stressed, maintaining a fairly straight face for all that her scent gave away her mirth “You need to practice honing your senses. There’s no better place to do that than a crowded cafeteria.”

 

“Fine.” He sighed, and then grinned. Harley pointed to random tables, telling Stiles to focus and tell her what he heard.

 

The guys on the basketball team were talking about weird dreams they’d had. Harley nearly choked on a lung when he told her about the one guy who dreamed about having sex with his cousin who was also her pet snake. Another girl was worried about French class because she had forgotten to do the homework. One guy a few tables down was muttering to himself about what appeared to be the periodic table.

 

“And what about Lydia’s group?” Harley asked.

 

“Ah, now I see your real plan.” Stiles drawled. Harley batted her eyelashes at him innocently. He barked a laugh and turned his ears towards his old table.

 

And nearly broke down laughing again when he heard Scott.

 

“I’m a great bowler.” Scott lied proudly.

 

“Oh, yeah? I’m sure.” Jackson was skeptical.

 

“Jackson, be nice.” Allison admonished. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

 

“Well, then, the two of you can come with us.” Lydia said. “It’ll be a double date.”

 

“That’s great--” Scott said.

 

“Oh, I don’t think--” Allison spoke at the same time as Scott. They both cut themselves off. There was a long pause.

 

“Excellent, I’ll come pick you both up.” Lydia decided.

 

“You okay bro?” Stiles snapped back to Harley, who was looking at him in concern.

 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.” Stiles was quick to reassure her. She didn’t look totally convinced. God, he really needed to get over this weird, stomach-sinking infatuation with Allison. She was Scott’s first crush, she was Lydia’s best friend. She was doubly off limits. He internally shook himself, he had bigger things to deal with than the cute, sweet, nice smelling,  **_totally off limits, brain,_ ** new girl.

 

“So, I was thinking we should visit Peter tonight.”

 

“Really?” Harley blinked, either at the suggestion or the abrupt change in topic.

 

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “It’d be during the day and on the new moon, so my bond with him should be at its weakest.”

 

“Why would you want your bond to be weak when you talk to him?” She asked.

 

“Because he’s probably still really unstable.” He explained. “I told you about the full moon, and how he attacked that other beta? Well, he looked very,  _ very _ slightly better, but I don’t want to risk talking to him unstable AND at full power. Who knows what kinda werewolf shenanigans he could pull out that we don’t know about.”

 

“I… hadn’t thought about that.” She admitted, shaking her head. “Okay, I’ll text my moms and let them know not to expect us at the shops after school. We are leaving right after?”

 

“Yeah,” He nodded. “Visiting hours only go ‘til 5, so right after school is our best bet.”

 

“Okay.” She nodded in turn. Plans set, the two of them parted ways to go to their next classes.

  
  


Allison really, really did not want to go on a double date. Allison really, really did not want to spend any amount of time with Jackson at all, really. Stiles and Harley had been right, the guy was a douche. He did not even apologize for hitting Scott! Not that the brown haired boy seemed to care.

 

In fact, Scott did not seem to care about much, as far as Allison could tell, other than himself and lacrosse. Allison had seen Stiles and Harley approach them and had seen them decide to go elsewhere. Scott, if he noticed, did not seem to care that his best friend was left out.

 

Okay, so, Allison did not invite them over either, but they were not Allison’s best friends. Just friends…. Maybe… not really. Allison toyed with her pen as she thought back to lunch. She had to keep from clicking it obnoxiously as her thoughts circled furiously. And how could Lydia do that to her anyway! Just agreeing to a double date for her when she explicitly stated she was not looking for a relationship right now! At least, not with Scott.

 

She had plenty of experience with Scott’s type before. They were quiet, shy, stare at you from across the hallway types, enough to creep you out, but not enough to get a restraining order. He was, however, a few seconds away from getting a knee to the crotch when he had invaded her space at the animal clinic. She scowled just remembering that weird interaction. But, she digressed, the point is, she could have taken care of Scott’s infatuation herself if it was not for Lydia’s interference.

 

Allison was broken out of her thoughts by the last school bell. Everyone around her rushed to shove their things into their bags, practically sprinting out the door. Allison took her time, making sure she had everything and none of her assignments were crumpled in the bottom of her bag. She made sure to say goodbye to Mr. Harris and took the scenic route to her locker. 

 

She was vindicated by Lydia’s scowl as the shorter girl waited by her locker.

 

“Well?” Lydia asked.

 

“Well what?” Allison opened her locker and got out the books she would need to do her homework, double checking everything.

 

“Aren’t you going to thank me?” Lydia slammed Allison’s locker closed and stood primly in front of her.

 

“Thank you for what?” Allison bit back. “Thank you for setting me up on a date I didn’t want? With people I don’t want to spend time with? Why should I thank you?”

 

“Without me you would be single and unpopular!” Lydia snapped.

 

“I don’t care! Better to be single and unpopular and happy than to be like you!” Allison marched off fuming.

 

Lydia stood, dumbstruck, in front of Allison’s locker.

 

Allison got all the way to the parking lot before she lost steam. Lydia was supposed to be her ride home today, because her car was being fixed.

 

“Hey! Allison!” A voice called, just as she was getting out her phone to text her dad. Allison looked up to see Stiles and Harley getting in to Stiles’ very recognizable jeep.

 

“Hey.” She sighed.

 

Stiles frowned. He opened his door and slid out of the jeep, ambling over to her.

 

“Something up?” He asked, gentle.

 

“I… I just had a fight with Lydia and she was supposed to drive me home today, but I really don’t want to be alone in a car with her right now and---”

 

“So you need a ride? Come on, I can take you home.” Stiles said, taking her hand and towing her back towards his jeep. His grip was soft, and she could get out of it with no trouble at all if she had wanted to, but she did not really want to.

 

“I--- thanks.” She said. “... Why are you so nice to me? When Lydia is so mean to you?”

 

“Well I was nice to Lydia too, for a while.” He cocked his head to the side, looking a bit like a puppy as he did so, if it weren’t for the sharpness of his gaze, that is. “And you aren’t Lydia. You are just a person who figured out Lydia’s bullshit a lot faster than I did.”

 

He gave her a hand up into the back seat of his jeep as if she were some sort of Lady in a movie, before hopping back into the driver’s seat.

 

“You’ll have to direct me.” He threw over his shoulder as he pulled out of his parking spot. “We’re taking her home.” He directed at Harley. The other girl eyed her before shrugging and leaning on the passenger side door.

 

Allison guided Stiles to her house, grateful that he was doing most of the talking. His constant chatter soothed her, and she found herself learning more about the history of Beacon Hills that she even thought there was to know.

 

“How do you know all this?” She interrupted a tangent about the history of the hospital.

 

“I’m the Sheriff’s kid and I spend way too much time on Wikipedia.” He replied promptly.

 

“I don’t think the history of the Beacon Hills General Hospital would be on Wikipedia.” She said.

 

“Well, no.” He conceded, pulling the jeep easily through a four way stop before continuing, “But my dad worked a lot and would often leave me at the library. The librarians loved me because I always had interesting questions, and because of that, I often spent time in the archives.”

 

“Yeah, this one is a total sponge.” Harley chimed in. “He’s got the second highest grade point average in the school and he’s my mother’s favorite, and the librarians favorite, because he retains fucking everything.”

 

“I highly doubt I’m Claire’s favorite.” He teased. Harley shoved him, lightly.

“You know I’m talking about my other mom you piece of shit.” She laughed and he laughed with her.

 

Allison wished that her house was a little bit further away, because she wanted to stay in the car with these two just a little bit longer. But, as it was, they were pulling up to her house and she had to go.

 

“Well, this is me. Thanks for taking me home guys.” She said, sliding over to the other side of the back seat, just to spend a few more moments in the warm atmosphere of this car.

 

“No problem, if you need a ride, don’t hesitate to ask, alright?” Stiles gave her a smile that warmed her to her core.

 

“Yeah, sure, absolutely.” She babbled slightly, trying to focus on not falling out of the jeep. She managed to land on her feet gracefully and shut the door. Shouldering her bag, she waved a final goodbye to Stiles and Harley and walked at a perfectly reasonable pace to her front door.

 

“Get ahold of yourself, Ally.” She murmured to herself as she masked her fumble with her keys with her body. How could one smile do this to her?!?! Stifling a relieved sigh, she got the front door open and quickly shut it behind her.

 

Allison bounded up the stairs and into her room. She flung herself on her bed. She took a deep breath, and shrieked into her pillow.

 

“Allison, are you alright?” Her mom called from the doorway.

 

Allison popped up, head towards the door.

 

“Yeah, mom, I’m fine.” She said.

 

“It's just that that wasn’t Lydia’s car outside just now, and then you rushed upstairs…” Her mom trailed off.

 

“No, I--- Lydia and I had a bit of a fight today, so Stiles drove me home.”

 

“Stiles?” Her mother’s eyebrows rose. “What is a Stiles?”

 

“He’s just---”

 

“He?” Her mom cut her off. “Allison, I don’t think you should be alone in a car with some boy that your father and I have never met.”

 

“But we weren’t alone, mom.” Allison said, “His friend Harley was there too. Remember, I told you about the girl who threw popcorn at the lacrosse game?” She had neglected to mention that she had been throwing popcorn too, but needed to say something as a few kernels had gotten caught in her hair.

 

“Oh, I see. Still, either me or your father should talk to him, to both of them” She corrected, “And make sure…”

 

“Oh come on mom!” Allison cried, “You met Lydia, and she’s much more likely to be harmful to me than a girl whose mom owns a bookstore and the Sheriff’s kid.”

 

“Allison, don’t take that tone with me!” Victoria replied, sharp. She continued more calmly, “It doesn’t matter who is more likely to do harm, the fact of the matter is that we haven’t met them and cannot form an opinion of the danger from your word alone.”

 

“Fine, okay, I’ll invite them in next time they drive me home, alright?” Victoria narrowed her eyes.

 

“Good.” Was all she said before leaving.

 

Allison flopped back on her bed again, hoping she hadn’t just doomed her almost friends to hell, or doomed herself to an existence where Stiles never wanted too….

 

She rolled against her comforter, clutching her pillow and trying to stifle her squeals. Stiles was just so…. She didn’t know. He was kind and funny and smart. Not to mention cute with the broad shoulders and the buzzcut. She wished she could remember the color of his eyes. Stiles didn’t look at her the way Jackson does, like he’s three seconds away from shoving his face in her chest, or even the way Scott does, like she’s some unwinnable prize. He looks at her with laughter in his face, inviting her to share the joke, or a sort of calm consideration like she’s a puzzle but one he’s content to only learn as much as she’ll let him. He looks at her like she’s a person.

 

“...Oh god, I’m already halfway in love, aren’t I?” She asked the air, head flopped over the side of her bed.

  
  
  


“Sooooooooooo…” Harley started.

 

“Don’t even go there.” Stiles was hard pressed to keep the growl out of his voice as he turned the jeep around and headed for the hospital. “I don’t even understand how it happened, and I don’t need you harping on about it.”

 

“Fine.” Harley put her hands up in surrender. “All I’ll say is that I think you would be a cute couple.”

 

“Stop! I can’t, she’s Scott’s first crush.” He snapped.

 

“First crush who doesn’t like him.” She pointed out. “Look, all I’m saying is that if she asks you out, promise me you won’t say no just because it would hurt Scott. Say yes or no based on what you want.”

 

“You just want me to go out with Allison so that my affections won’t go back to Lydia.” He deflected. It didn’t work.

 

“Ha! You admit you like her!” Harley shoved a finger at him, smug.

 

“That was never the question.”

 

“But it’s still an answer. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t promise.” She poked him.

 

He grumbled.

 

She sighed. “Look, all I ask is that you think about it, yeah? Allison is a smart girl, don’t make her decisions for her.”

 

And that, that hurt, because that was what he had been doing to Lydia for years. Harley must have seen him flinch because she patted him lightly on the arm before pulling her headphones out of her phone and blasting some obnoxious music. They were laughing the rest of the way to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm not dead! Sorry I haven't been posting, but it's November which means Nanowrimo which mean when I get stuck on my novel, it's time to write more fanfic!


	5. Laying the Groundwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Harley visit Peter.

 

The two rolled up to Beacon Hills General Hospital and sat in the parked jeep, staring at the building.

 

“So, we’re really about to do this.” Harley said.

 

“Yup.” Stiles replied, shoving his door open and sliding out of the jeep. The pair slammed their doors closed and ambled through the front door to the lobby.

 

“Stiles?” Came a voice from behind the desk.

 

“Hey, Jason.” Stiles replied. There was another reason that Stiles had insisted on coming this afternoon and it was that Melissa was working mornings this week. By the time she got to talking with Jason, he’ll have most likely forgotten Stiles was here.

 

“What are you doing here Stiles?” Jason asked politely.

 

“Harley and I,” He swept out his hands to indicate the both of them, “Are doing some volunteer work for extra credit and were hoping we could visit with some of the patients in the long term care ward.”

 

“Really?” Jason asked, “Sure. Okay, just sign the sheet right here” he put a clip board on the desk “and let me know if you need a paper about the extra credit or if a phone call will do.”

 

“Paper would be best, so you don’t have to worry about being put on hold and stuff.” Stiles stepped up to the desk, deftly filling out the form.

 

“Thanks.” Jason nodded at them. “And thanks for deciding on visiting the long term ward, those guys don’t get a lot of attention.”

 

“I know.” Stiles gave one last nod to Jason before grabbing Harley, who had just finished filling out the sheet, and guiding her away down a quiet hallway.

 

“Extra credit?” She asked, giving him a side eye.

 

“What?” He shrugged. “It’s a lot less suspicious than the two of us out of the blue deciding to visit a dude that neither of us is related to. Besides, now we have a cover story in case anyone asks us why we’re visiting Peter.”

 

Harley considered this for a long moment, before giving him a wry smile. “You think of everything, don’t you?”

 

“I try.” He gave her a silly grin before stopping outside a door.

 

Peter had been admitted to long term care about a month after his mother had. Stiles had vague memories of standing in this doorway, looking in on the comatose man and not quite daring to enter, but not wanting to go back to his raving mother either. Stiles remembered, now that he was back here, how sad he had been for Peter, because no one ever visited.

 

“Well, now I’m going to visit.” He murmured inaudibly, before pushing open the door.

 

Peter was sat in a wheelchair by the window. His burns were clearly visible and his face blank. Stiles edged carefully into the room, not making any threatening advances, but also not baring his neck, not yet when he wasn’t sure of Peter’s sanity.

Glancing around, he saw that there wasn’t much of anything to say that a person lived in this room and had for the past six years. No books or pictures. The room was steril. The lemon scent of the cleaner they used was already itching at Stiles’ nose, he couldn’t imagine how it must be for Peter.

 

“Okay, decision made, I’m coming back tomorrow with some flowers or an air freshener or something.” The words popped out of Stiles’ mouth.

 

“Nose getting to you?” Harley asked, amused. She gently closed the door behind her and stepped away to lean against the wall to its side. She didn’t want Peter to feel trapped.

 

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Stiles replied feelingly “Fake lemon scent is rank.”

 

If Stiles hadn’t been watching, he would have missed the faint twitch in Peter’s face. Slowly, Stiles edged closer to him until they were face to face from across the room. Stiles studied Peter. He got the distinct impression that even though the man’s face was remarkably blank, he was being studied back. He would have to ask Peter how he does that.

 

“You bit me, right? In the Preserve.” Stiles started. He flicked a glance over to Harley when she shifted on her heels.

 

“Do you really want to start with that?” She hissed.

 

“Where else would I start?” She had no answer. Stiles continued. “You bit me, and, accident or not, you killed Laura. I don’t blame you for that. I know that you probably have some really complex feelings about your family after everything you’ve been through, believe me, I know. I have some complex feelings about you.” He took a deep breath. “But, I’m willing to look past them, to be pack, under certain conditions.”

 

That got a full body twitch and a much sharper gaze, but no attack, not yet.

 

“Stiles, footsteps.” He nodded. Pulling off his backpack, he unzipped the bag and went to perch on the windowsill. He pulled out the book he had been reading and flipped to near the beginning.

 

“..... _ Crowley nodded mournfully, and drew a complex, wiggly sigil on the paper _ … Hello, can we help you?” He looked up from his book at the woman who just entered the room.

 

The woman, the nurse, stared at him for a long moment, her gaze made his skin crawl. She flipped her scrutiny to Harley before speaking.

 

“You are not allowed to be in here.”

 

“I think you’ll find we are.” Stiles replied.

 

“Are you family?” She asked, gaze fastened on him once more.

 

“No---”

 

“Then you aren’t allowed in here!” She shrieked.

 

“Yes, we are.” Stiles was firm. “General visiting hours are not over until five and we signed in properly at the circulation desk, we are allowed to be here, and if you don’t want me talking to your supervisor about how you were denying your patient visitors, you will leave us alone.”

 

The woman seemed moments away from throwing something at him, but instead settled for a sharp sniff and slamming the door to the room.

 

Silence reigned.

 

“... That was creepy. That was creepy, right?” Harley asked. “Like, what was her deal? I didn’t sense anything supernatural about her, so that woman is just good old fashioned crazy. You thought so too right?”

 

“There was definitely something off about her.” Stiles agreed. He looked over Peter. “It bears investigating. But, that’s not the point of this visit.” He pulled himself off of the windowsill and back to his original position.

 

“I was talking terms. I will be your pack, as will Harley, if: you don’t hurt anyone, and I mean anyone, else unless your life is truly absolutely in immediate danger. My dad’s the sheriff, I’ll know if someone gets hurt. 2) you allow me to come back and help you heal, I don’t want a barely there alpha.” Stiles cut himself off to give Peter a hard, beta-gold look. “You may not remember me, but I remember you both before and after the fire, I didn’t know I remembered until recently, but I do. I know what you were like and what you could be and I don’t settle. Not anymore. 3) you let me and my dad, you know, the sheriff, find who murdered your family. I might need your help for the whole werewolf reveal, but there’s no way he’s just going to let a mass murderer go once he knows the truth, and even if he did, I wouldn’t. Harley, do you have anything to add?”

 

“Me?” She squeaked, before hurriedly composing herself. She thought hard for a moment. “No turning anyone else. Stiles took to the bite really well, and it would be really testing fate for it to happen again.”

 

“Right, okay.” Stiles nodded. “No turning anyone else, not until you are fully healed and your family’s murderer or murderers are taken care of. And not without their full consent!” 

 

Stiles turned to Harley once more. She shook her head at him, she had nothing else to add.

 

“Those are our terms. Think them over. I’ll come back tomorrow, but we won’t need some sort of answer from you until both of us come back.” Stiles sidled towards the door and Harley did the same.

 

The pair slipped out of the room. They looked at each other before Stiles led Harley around the other rooms so that they would look less suspicious. The actually ended up spending a hilarious half hour with Beatrice who was five rooms away from Peter. Apparently her family no longer visited her, but Stiles and Harley couldn’t imagine why. The woman spent their entire visit with her talking about the prank she had pulled on one of the nurses recently.

 

“Oh, Jenny’s an absolute nightmare.” She whispered conspiratorially. “The only one of us she gives a damn about is that Hale boy, and even then only recently.”

 

“Wait, is she the super creepy one? Like bug eyed stare, might be holding a knife behind her back?” Harley asked.

 

“That’s the one. The Devil’s in that girl, you mark my words, but she is remarkably easy to fool.” There was a devilish glint in Beatrice’s eyes. “In fact, if you two wanted to help me…”

 

“Absolutely.” Stiles grinned at the old woman.

 

“Oh, I knew I liked you.” She grinned back. “If you could get me some foul smelling herbs I would appreciate it.”

 

Harley grinned as well. “We can absolutely do that.”


	6. Familial Strife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh yeah, Scott's here, I guess....

Allison was not even remotely surprised at the car that drove up in the middle of dinner. She rolled her eyes as her father went to answer the door.

 

“Allison, come here!” He father called from the foyer.

 

She pushed in her chair and walked out to meet him, the door thankfully closed but his hand on the doorknob, she felt rather than saw her mother follow her.

 

“What’s this about you going on a double date?” He asked lowly.

 

“I’m not.” She responded.

 

Her father blinked.

 

“Didn’t expect that?” She raised her eyebrow.

 

“Not particularly.” He replied, nonplussed. “Lydia seemed rather insistent.”

 

“I’m sure.” Allison’s response was as dry as a Arizona summer. “Lydia decided that I was going on a double date with her, Jackson, and Scott. We had a fight about her making decisions for me, especially when I don’t want to be around either of those boys. So, no, I don’t have a double date.”

 

“Maybe you should go.” Her mother chimed in.

 

Allison whirled to face her. “What?”

 

“It would be a good chance to socialize---”

 

“What about when I came home from school and you told me off for being in a car with two people you don’t know!” Allison cried. “If you look outside, there are two people that you don’t know in that car and now you’re telling me to go?”

 

“Well, Lydia’s there and we know her---”

 

“Oh, so it’s fine for Lydia to force me into something I don’t want to do. Why? Why do you trust Lydia’s judgement more than mine?” Her voice broke even as she held her mother’s gaze. “Jackson's a douche and Scott creeps me out so I don’t want to hang out with them, much less go on a date! Why can’t you trust me?” She left, dashing up the stairs and back into her room. This time when she threw herself on her bed she was already leaving tear stains in the comforter.

  
  
  


Christopher Argent stared at his wife uncomprehending as their daughter disappeared upstairs. He was about to follow Allison when another knock came. Chris blew out a breath and opened the door, to find not Lydia but one of the boys standing there.

 

“Uh, hi?” The boy said, eyes tracking what little of the house he could see behind Chris.

 

“Who are you?” Chris growled.

 

“I--” the boy jumped “I’m Scott. Allison and I were supposed to go on a date?”

 

Christopher gave the boy a once over. He didn’t seem all that creepy to him, but he would be the first to admit he wasn’t the best judge of these things. The boy did, however, continue to train his eyes into the house instead of on Chris, and he didn’t like the lack of awareness there one bit.

 

“According to my daughter, you are not going on a date. Goodbye, Scott.” He went to close the door.

 

“Wait!” Scott cried, slamming his hand on the door and pushing at it. “Please, this is all a misunderstanding. Let me talk to Allison, please. If she would just give me the chance--”

 

Chris wrenched the door away from the boy’s hand.

 

“My daughter,” he said slowly as if speaking to a child “made it very clear that she would not be going out tonight. I suggest you respect her wishes and leave before I decide to call the police.”

 

“What?” The boy looked genuinely confused.

 

Chris declined to say anything more, slamming the front door in the boy’s face and locking it for good measure. Turning back to his wife, who had not moved, he pinned her with the coldest stare he had ever given.

 

“I am going upstairs to comfort our daughter.” He bit out. “And you are going to think about this.”

 

“Christopher.” She said, equally dangerous, “I think you forget that until Allison is an adult I am the head of this family. I do what I think is best.”

 

“How is that--” he spit the word at the door “the best for Allison?”

 

“Well, Lydia--”

 

“Is not Allison.” He cut her off. “Why do you like this girl so much anyway?”

 

“You liked her too, don’t deny it.” Victoria accused.

 

“Yes, because she seemed to make Allison happy. That was all I needed to know. Now, she is making Ally incredibly unhappy--”

 

“You just don’t want her to go on a date. Too afraid of your little girl growing up.”

 

“Afraid of her growing up into a woman who lets her friends push her into things she doesn’t want, yes.” He was practically yelling at this point. “Just because Lydia’s there and she has her phone doesn’t mean that she’ll be safe or that she’ll feel safe. We promised to let her be a child, let her be innocent of our world.” He let out a deep sigh. “Let her be innocent to the world of threatening dates Victoria, at least while it’s still in our power.”

 

Victoria seemed to finally be listening to him. He decided to leave it at that and wearily mounted the steps to his daughter’s room. When he got there, he found her sprawled face down in her bed and he went and gently sat beside her.

 

Chris stroked her back as she let the last of her tears fall, and even after the shaking subsided. Finally, she sniffled and sat up, turning red and swollen eyes on her father.

 

“... thanks, dad.” She said, voice scratchy.

 

“No problem, Ally Cat.” He said, patting her head.

 

She laughed wetly, swiping at his hand.

 

“... so, when I do want to date, will you be on my side?” she asked. “Will you promise me not to scare them away?”

 

“I’ll always be on your side, Ally.” He smiled down at his daughter, “But you have to let me have a little bit of fun with them….”

 

“Dad!” She cried, batting at him again.

 

They both broke down into a giggle fit, falling back on her bed.

 

“I love you, dad.” Allison said to the ceiling when they had calmed down.

 

“I love you too, Allison.”

 

~~~~~

 

Lydia was not having a good time.

 

Allison had refused to come outside and left her with Jackson and Scott! Jackson kept throwing off her aim when he tried to ‘help’ her, and Scott was useless. When he wasn’t pining for Allison, and talking about Allison, and very obviously thinking about Allison, he was quite honestly the worst bowler Lydia had ever seen in her life. It was so sad it wasn’t even funny!

 

At the end of their first game, after Lydia had told Jackson to stop ‘helping’ her, Lydia won the game with a 96, Jackson got a 57, and Scott had 18.

 

“Alright, I think we should call it a night.” Lydia decreed, heading for the door.

Jackson heaved a put out sigh and followed.

 

“But we’ve only played one game?” came Scott behind them.

 

Lydia spun on her heel, hair flowing behind her, to pin him with her stare.

 

“You can stay if you want.” She said sweetly. “But I am leaving and if you want a ride home, you are too.”

 

She spun back and kept walking, this time with two pairs of footsteps behind her.

 

When Lydia finally got home after an epoch long almost double-date, she turned her thoughts to her best friend. She paced the length of her room, thinking.

 

“How dare she leave me on my own.” She murmured. “I give her popularity and she yells at me! Well, no more. If she doesn’t want to be mine anymore, that’s fine, but she’s got to pay for making me look bad in front of the school. Especially if anyone catches wind of this date.”

 

The problem was, how was she going to get back at Allison? Just not being her friend anymore wasn’t enough. She needed to do some watching for the next few days, see what an appropriate revenge would be. And she would have it, she was Lydia Martin, she was a genius, she could figure out how to pay back an insult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I'm making my girls too OOC or not, but this is how they have behaved, and I don't want to rewrite it. So, nyeh.


	7. Some Confrontations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate comes to town, people get shot, questions are asked and avoided, and Stiles gets to say things he's wanted to say for a long time.

Kate drove into town in her tiny car which was loaded to the brim with weaponry. Her brother had said that there had been an ‘animal attack’ in Beacon Hills but that it seemed to have been a one off, as nothing new had happened. She snorted.

“Poor, poor Chris.” She drawled. “Still doesn’t quite get that we’re monster hunters.”

She knew it was only a matter of time before the mutt would strike again, it was a useless animal after all. In fact…

“What are you doing up there?” She said, eyeing the figure a few rooftops away salaciously.

She stopped her car and turned off the engine. Her movements were silent as she slipped to the back of her car and opened the trunk, getting out one of her guns. She must have made some sort of noise, though, because a howl rang out into the night.

Kate’s head snapped up as another howl answered, this one much, much closer. She turned to see red eyes and a broken, gaping maw. She was too well trained to scream, but not too well trained to waste an entire clip trying to get the beast. It was fast. Too fast. It lept onto the top of her car, bending it inwards before leaping after the other wolf. She hastily assembled her sniper rifle and took aim. She shot. A wolf went down. Another howl rang out.

“Shit.” Kate growled. She picked up her phone and dialed for backup.

~~~~~

Chris was pulled out of his bed very early in the morning by an SOS call from his sister. He hastily geared up and was almost out the door when a voice stopped him.

“Dad?” Came Allison’s voice, fuzzy with sleep. “What’s going on?”

“Your Aunt Kate is in town, and she’s having some car trouble. I’m going to go help her.” he said.

“What kind of trouble?” She asked.

“Just a flat tire, she’s fine, and we’ll be back soon so don’t worry, okay?”

“‘Kay, night.” She shuffled off back to bed.

Chris blew out a breath and went to collect his sister.

~~~~~

Allison spent the next morning before class not-so-subtly waiting for Stiles. She caught him and Harley as they parted ways to go to their respective lockers.

“Hey guys.” She said.

“Hi.” Harley replied.

“Hey Allison, what’ up?” Stiles asked, turning to his locker.

“Well, my mom saw you driving me home yesterday and wants to meet both of you.” She said, apology clear in her voice. “And also I kinda still need a ride home today, but if you don’t want to stay for the inevitable interrogation I totally understand and will not blame you in the slightest. I mean, not that you’re obligated to drive me home I was just--”

“Allison.” Harley cut in. “Chill, it’s fine.”

“Yeah, we won’t leave you to deal with Lydia on your own, and we’ll have each other when facing your mom, so it’s all good.” Stiles agreed.

Allison let out a relieved sigh.

“Thanks. You two really are good friends.” She dimpled a smile at them.

“Whoa.” Harley said, bringing up her hands to shield her eyes “That smile is too bright for my poor lesbian self. I’ll see you guys later.”

Allison blinked at her. Stiles just chuckled and raised a hand in goodbye.

“Hey, let me get your number.” He said suddenly. “You know, so you can call me in case you need anymore of my expert chauffeur services.” He grinned at her.

“I’m sure I’ll have other reasons to call you.” Allison watched as Stiles went red before realizing what she sounded like. She decided that he could take that sentence however he wanted. He was the one who brought it up.

“Sure, yeah, totally. Let me just…” He fumbled for his phone in his pocket, handing it to her before hurriedly taking it back and unlocking it before handing it back.

Allison put herself in his contacts and sent herself a text. “There, done.” She said, just as the warning bell rang.

“And apparently, just in time.” Stiles grinned at her, taking his phone back.

He quickly got his stuff out of his locker and the two of them made it to English just before the late bell. And if Scott looked a bit dismayed at their joint arrival, she had the decency not to be smug about it… In public.

~~~~~

This was not the first time Lydia lamented having so few classes with Allison, but the circumstances were different.

Third period was gym class and Lydia finally got a chance. Allison had blatantly avoided her in the locker room and separated from her as soon as they got into the gym. Lydia sat on the bleachers and watched, fuming, as Allison played basketball with the boys off to one side of the gym.

After awhile, she huffed and turned away, frustrated. Allison was much more athletic than she was, there was no way to punish her here. Lydia spent the rest of the period staring coldly into the middle distance. Even Finstock knew better than to bother her, either that or he didn’t care, it was impossible to tell with him.

Lydia got her inspiration on her way to history. She saw Allison walking to her free period, accompanied by… She frowned. She didn’t remember his name! She knew his face, knew that she purposefully ignored him, but could not for the life of her remember his name. Allison came to her rescue.

“I’ll see you at lunch, Stiles!” The brunette called out as the two parted ways.

Smirking to herself, Lydia approached. She could skip history, it’s not as if the subject actually mattered.

~~~~~

Stiles heard the click of heels on fake tile and smelled grave dirt just before he was dragged into a supply closet.

Shocked, he offered no resistance as he was pushed up against the door. He snapped out of it when a pair of lips landed on his own.

He gripped Lydia’s arms tightly and picked her up bodily before setting her down on the opposite side of the closet. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and had to strain not to let his eyes start glowing in this dim supply room.

“What the fuck?” he hissed.

“What?” she replied, flippant. “I know you want me.” Click, “And I want you.” Click. “So what’s the problem?” Her heels clicked together and she was back in his space.

His ears were amazing, Claire was right, he could actually hear Lydia’s heart skip when she lied. He was going to have to tell Harley about this. Well, maybe not about this, specifically.

“Okay, one? I know that you don’t want me.” He stated pushing her back once more. “Two, maybe I wanted you before, but that’s over now. Like, way over. No thanks. Three, I’ll bet anything you like that the only reason you learned my name is so you could find a way to get back at Allison which:” here he wished the room wasn’t so dim, so that he could be sure Lydia saw his disappointed look. “Not exactly your best look, not to mention something as poorly thought out as this seduction plan.”

“Excuse me?” She cried.

“No one in this school is actually going to believe there is anything going on between us. Ever. Did you even know my name before today?”

“Of course I did.”

“Liar.” He really liked this trick, and he also really, really hated it.

“Well, maybe I didn’t, but that’s only because you are a creep and--”

“Was.” He interrupted. “I was a creep, and I’m sorry about that.” He relished that with his night vision he could actually see her startled blink. “I was a dick, and a creep, and got the idea in my head that I knew what was best for you and that I should be the one to make those decisions and that was dangerous and wrong. I am sorry for all of that.”

“Good, you should be.” She regained her composure very quickly.

“But,” he cut anything else she might have said off sharply “You need to apologize to me and to Allison for being a raging bitch. You treated me like I was dirt and I was nothing. You took my best friend away from me, twice, and you’re trying to hurt Allison for not letting you hurt her before. For someone so smart, you are so incredibly stupid. Allison told me, alright? She told me that the way she feels about Scott is the same way you do about me. So yeah, you need to apologize.”

“Smart?” she asked sharply.

Stiles dragged a hand down his face. “As, I believe, we have established, I had an unhealthy obsession with you. I know that you’re probably going to beat me out for valedictorian, and that your math skills are much, much better than mine. I know that you are probably going to go on to win the Nobel Prize for math once you stop pretending to be an idiot. That knowledge was part and parcel of my creepy behavior.”

He took a deep breath and grabbed the doorknob beside him.

“So, apologize to me, apologize to Allison, and stop acting like a moron.” He stepped forward suddenly, forcing Lydia back a step, swung open the door and strode into the hallway, leaving Lydia framed in the light of the open door, dumbfounded.

~~~~~

Lunch was no longer an event Allison was looking forward to. She grabbed her tray and went in search of Stiles and Harley. She could feel the eyes of the cafeteria on her as she avoided Lydia’s table, winding her way through the room as fast as she could without looking scared. It took awhile but she finally found them at the opposite end of a long table from a lone boy. She gave the loner a hesitant smile before sitting down next to Harley.

“Hi.” She greeted them.

“Wow, that fight with Lydia must have been more major than people were saying.” Was Harley’s greeting, along with a raised eyebrow.

“She didn’t respect my boundaries, why would we still be friends?” Allison shot back.

“...Fair.” Harley said. She sighed heavily. “All of this drama with you guys and Lydia has sorta killed my crush. Which sucks.”

“But crushing on a terrible person sucks more.” Stiles replied.

“True.” Harley nodded.

The talking ceased for a bit as Allison had also learned that the fries were only good hot.

“Hey guys!” A tray smacked down onto the table beside Stiles, as Scott slid into the seat beside him.

“Hey Scott.” Stiles’ greeting and subsequent smile were subdued. Scott didn’t notice.

“Allison, why aren’t you sitting with us?” He asked, puppy eyes out in force.

“I thought I was?” She gestured to the table where they sat. Harley and Stiles snickered. Scott’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“I mean with Lydia and Jackson and Danny and me. Your friends.”

“None of you are my friends.” Allison stated. “Lydia doesn’t respect me, neither does Jackson, and I don’t know you, Scott. I know Stiles and Harley. They are my friends.”

“Stiles?” He turned his confused puppy stare to the boy sitting beside him.

“When was the last time we texted, Scott? Or spoke?” Stiles quietly looked at his best friend.

“I, well, I’ve been busy with being co-captain of the lacrosse team and you have your job so….”

“The last time we spoke was before you made co-captain. There’s nothing after that, at least, not from your side.” Stiles pulled out his phone and navigated to their chat. There were a few messages from Stiles to Scott. Info dumping, memes, questions about how he and Melissa were doing. But the chat was entirely one sided.

“I’m sorry man, I’ll do better, promise!” Scott’s earnest face had Stiles sighing.

“Fine, but I’m not helping you with your chem homework for at least a month!”

“But Stiles!” Scott whined.

“You are going to help me though, right?” Harley jumped in.

“And me?” Allison chimed in.

“As long as you respond to a text every once in a while, of course.” He sniffed theatrically.

“Good, because Harris is a nightmare!” Allison cried. “No one else seems to see it but he’s awful.”

“More proof that you belong with us.” Stiles replied “Harris has had it out for me from day one.”

“Me too.” Scott jumped in.

“Same.” came Harley’s agreement.

“But he loves Jackson and Lydia. And Danny, but everyone loves Danny.”

“Really?” Allison glanced back at the Hawaiian boy.

“Yeah, even if you aren’t attracted to men, Danny’s just a solidly nice dude.” Harley told the other girl. “He’s also a good hacker, so if you ever need to find something he’s your guy.”

“Seriously?” Allison asked.

“That’s more or less an open secret in our grade.” Stiles said. “Most of us have known each other for our entire lives since kindergarten, except for Scott and Lydia who moved in later.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot that you miss when you’re new.” Scott agreed.

The conversation shifted to more mundane things. Stiles wheedled at Allison to teach him French until she laughingly gave in. Harley tried to see how much food she could steal from Scott before he noticed (a lot) and the tension in the group eased slightly.

The four parted ways for their respective classes, eager to be done for the day.  
Allison rushed to get her things packed in her bag, not wanting to keep Stiles and Harley waiting when they were nice enough to give her a ride home. She was so glad she was getting her car back tomorrow. But also didn’t want to get it back so that she could spend more time with her friends. Well, it didn’t matter, she decided as she slammed her locker shut. With any luck, Stiles and Harley would pass whatever criteria her mother judged her potential friends by and she would get to see them as often as she wanted.

She hurried out of the school and into the cold sunlight to find Stiles’ jeep conspicuously absent. She almost had a panic attack before she spotted Harley sitting lazily on the curb. Allison angled herself towards the other girl and sat down beside her when she reached her.

“Do you know where Stiles is?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Harley said, glancing up before looking back at her phone. “He just texted. He was on his way back from the hospital when he came across a… family friend. He’s taking the guy to my mom’s shop. He’ll be here soon.”

“The hospital?” Her voice was much more shrill than intended “Why was he at the hospital?”

“Calm down, Argent.” Harley ordered. “If he was injured, he wouldn’t be driving. He went there during his free period to drop some stuff off for a few of the patients at the long term care ward. He and I volunteer there every few weeks or so, and he wanted to bring them some flowers to brighten up their rooms.”

“Oh.” Allison said quietly. “That was nice of him.”

“Yeah, if he likes you, Stiles is the best guy to have around. If I wasn’t such an absolute lesbian, I’d probably ask him out.” Harley fiddled with her phone, watching Allison.

Allison was saved from responding by Stiles pulling up next to them.

“Ladies, our interrogation awaits!” He called out of the window. The two girls laughed and stood up, getting in the jeep.

Stiles drove them directly to the Argent house. They all sat in the car for a quiet moment.

“Why do I feel like I’m about to meet my girlfriend’s parents for the first time?” Harley grumbled from the backseat.

“Probably because my parents are tougher on potential friends than anyone else’s are on potential partners. If my dad, or my mom, for that matter, isn’t cleaning a gun at the table I’ll be surprised.” Allison gave a dry chuckle.

“Whoa, wait, guns?” Harley called out, shoving herself between the front seats to stare at Allison.

“Yeah, Harley, guns. Her dad owns a big weapons manufacturing and distributing company.” Stiles said, putting a hand on on Harley’s face and shoving her back.

“How did you know that?” Allison asked sharply.

“Argent’s Arms is the first thing that comes up when you type in Argent in Google.” Stiles replied.

“Oh.” Allison said, feeling a bit silly.

“Were you worried we were trying to be your friends for money?” Harley asked.

Stiles just watched her with a sad, knowing sort of expression.

“It’s happened before.” Allison admitted. Her memories of failed friendships pulled her in for a moment before Stiles drew her out of it, his fingertips barely brushing her shoulder. She gave him a sad, dimpled smile before turning and getting out of the Jeep.

Stiles and Harley followed. 

Stiles ran around the jeep and bumped shoulders with Allison. She bumped him back and let all of them into the house.

“I’m home!” Allison called out. “And I brought friends!”

“Hey, Ally!” Came a voice from upstairs.

Allison turned and squealed with delight. She dropped her bag on the couch and raced up the stairs to throw herself at the older woman.

“Kate! Your here!”

“Yeah, kid.” The older woman, Kate, put Allison down and looked down at the two who were still awkwardly standing in front of the door. “So, are you going to introduce us or…”

“Oh, right.” Allison grinned, leading the woman down the stairs and back towards the front door. “Kate this is Stiles and Harley.”

“Hi.”

“Hey.” Harley and Stiles chorused.

“Guys, this is my aunt Kate.” She indicated the blonde beside her.

“Nice to meet you kids.” Kate held out a hand first to Harley, and then to Stiles. When she grabbed his hand, she gripped tightly and pulled at him. Stiles reacted on instinct and firmed up his stance. He was still close enough to smell her, and the wolfsbane that seemed to coat her tickled his nose.

“You better be treating my niece right.” She gave a shark’s grin.

Stiles’ wolf snarled, ears pinned and pacing in the back of his mind. It took everything he could not to lash out at this woman who was obviously a hunter, or to sneeze at the wolfsbane that surrounded her like an aura.

“You better be treating my friend right.” He returned the sharp grin.

Kate looked impressed as she released him, stepping back slightly.

“I like him.” She told Allison. “About time you got a boyfriend with some bite.”

“Kate!” Allison and another voice called sharply.

The group turned to the other voice to see an older man standing in the doorway to the dining room, holding a cloth that was covered in oil stains gripped tight in one hand. The man and Kate stared at each other for a moment before Kate snorted and looked away. The man didn’t seem mollified but he turned away from her and stepped into the room, shoving the cloth in his pocket.

“Allison, these are the friends who have been driving you around?” He asked.

“Yes!” She said, grateful to be getting back on track. “This is Stiles,” she gestured to him, “and Harley.”

“Christopher Argent.” The man said, shaking both teenagers hands in turn. “Why don’t you all go up to Allison’s room for a while, there’s plenty of time before dinner.”

The suggestion got him a questioning eyebrow from Kate, but she didn’t say anything.

Allison excused herself, Stiles, and Harley, and brought the other two upstairs. She showed them her room which she was still unpacking.

“Sorry about the boxes.” She said, face heating.

“Don’t worry about it,” Stiles said, putting his backpack in a corner next to her desk, “I remember when Scott moved in, it took him and his mom months to get everything unpacked.”

“Wasn’t his dad still around then?” Harley asked, dumping her bag near the wall and flopping on the foot of Allison’s bed. Allison put down her bag too and sat at the head.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, pulling out Allison’s desk chair and sitting in it backwards, laying his arms over the back and resting his chin on his arms “but you’d never know it. Rafe was never home even before the split and he was always talking about how hard his job was.” Stiles snorted. “He talked about it like he was the head of the FBI instead of some desk jockey. Meanwhile his wife was working as an ER nurse, raising a kid, two kids, really, AND unpacking the house and making food for all of them.”

“Two kids? I didn’t know Scott had a sibling.” Allison commented.

“He doesn’t, not really.” Harley said. “It’s just that Stiles and Scott were a set basically since the day Scott came to good ol’ Beacon Hills and since his mom was in the hospital and his dad was working, Melissa raised both of them for a while.”

“Which is why you kept trying to wing-man for him with me.” Allison said.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “It was. But,” He gave her a look “That’s not going to happen anymore. You said he was creepy, and I’m going to trust your judgement on that.”

“Thanks.” She said.

“I’ve always thought you would be better off without Scott anyway.” Harley threw out, “I mean, as soon as the two of you stopped hanging out as much you gained two friends, got a job, and got over an obsession.”

“I think that last one has more to do with the meditation than Scott, but I get your point.” Stiles said dryly.

“So you did get a job? Good for you!”

“Oh, right, I forgot I told you about that.” Stiles said. “Yeah, I got a job at the used book store in town.”

“What he means is that he got my old job in the used book store in town.” Harley commented. “My mom owns it.”

“I thought your mom owned the occult shop.” Allison said.

“My other mom owns the occult shop.”

“Ah.” Allison nodded. “Makes sense. I can’t imagine owning one business, let alone two.”

“So you aren’t going to take over your families gun business when you grow up?” Stiles asked.

“No,” Allison wrinkled her nose. “I don’t really have a head for business, and while I don’t really care about guns, I don’t want people breaking down my door whenever they are angry or scared about things that are going on in the world.”

“Fair.” Harley and Stiles chorused.

“Sooooooo, chem homework?” Allison looked up at Stiles hopefully. Harley echoed the expression. They held it for a long few seconds, before all three of them broke out laughing.

“Fine, fine I’ll help you.” Stiles said, reaching down to grab his bag and pull out his books. He migrated to the bed and the three got to work. That was how Victoria found them when she came to tell them dinner was ready.

 

Out of all the things that Victoria expected when she went to get her daughter and her daughter’s… friends, for dinner, them doing homework was not on her list. Especially since one of them was a boy. But there they were. Allison was leaning on her headboard with one of her books open in front of her and her notebook on her legs. The boy was sitting cross legged half way down the bed and on the side nearest the window, book in front of him, highlighter in his hand, leaning over to point something out to Allison. The other girl was laying on her stomach on the foot of Allison’s bed, head buried in her own notes.

“.... right so that’s the formula you’ll want to use for problem twelve.” The boy was saying.

“Thanks Stiles!” Allison beamed at the boy before turning and copying the equation in her notes.

Victoria blinked as the boy went red but leaned back out of her daughter’s space. She cleared her throat and watch all three teenagers’ heads snap up to the doorway.

“Dinner is ready.” She said before turning on her heel and leaving.

“Sorry about her.” Allison said, ducking her head as she shuffled her notes around to get off the bed.

“It’s cool.” Stiles said, sliding off the back of the bed.

“Yeah, I know how protective parents go.” Harley rolled off the end of the bed and landed in a crouch. She straightened up and the three teens went downstairs to join the three adult already in the dining room.

“Oh score! Pasta!” Stiles called out. He and Harley high-fived like the carb lovers they were and took seats on the long side of the table opposite of Kate.

“Glad you approve.” Victoria commented dryly as Allison sat down between her father and aunt and across from Stiles.

“I always approve of good food Mrs. Argent.” Stiles gave her a guileless smile that had Allison and Harley both suppressing a snort. It looked directly ripped off of Scott’s face.

“Oh, well, thank you.” Victoria was quick to regain her composure, but the slip caused Allison’s control to crack further. This was going to be a long dinner.

“So, Allison,” Her father started as they all began eating, “you were a bit late getting home today, was something wrong?”

“Sorry, that was me.” Stiles cut in. “I was running some errands and ran into an old acquaintance who needed some help.”

“Oh really?” Kate said. “That was nice of you. Seems like you’ve found a real good guy, Ally.” She bumped shoulders with her niece who ducked her head in response.

“Kate!” Allison hissed.

“What?” Victoria and Chris chorused dangerously, eyes trained on Stiles like sniper scopes.

“Kate’s just joking.” Allison stated. “She seems to think Stiles being my friend means that we’re dating, which we aren’t. Hell, Stiles was trying to get me to go out with his friend until yesterday!”

“Allison, language.” Victoria said.

“What happened yesterday?” Kate asked Stiles.

“Allison told me that Scott was creeping her out.” Stiles said.

Kate raised her eyebrow. Victoria and Chris both leaned back in their chairs and gave Stiles an evaluating glance. Allison grinned smugly.

“Well, color me impressed.” Kate said slowly. “And what about you, how did you and Allison become friends?” She turned to Harley.

Harley looked up from her food for the first time and swallowed. “It was probably the lacrosse game, she and Lydia sat next to us. We all had fun.”

Stiles and Allison nodded in agreement.

“It was a lot more fun talking to you guys than cheering with Lydia, especially since she only cared about Jackson.” Allison thought for a moment, “Oh! Those women behind you, were they your moms?”

“Yep!” Harley said, popping the p as she did. “We don’t usually go to the sporting events, but Stiles wanted to go and I didn’t have anything better to do so my moms came too. They helped with the snack smuggling.”

“Nice.” Allison replied.

“What about you, Stiles, were your parents there?” Chris asked politely.

Harley and Allison tensed up slightly. Stiles just gave a sad smile.

“No, sir, my dad has been working a few cases recently and doesn’t have the time.” He hoped they would leave it at that.

“So, your dad works at the Sheriff’s department? What about your mom?” Kate asked, taking another bite of her dinner.

“My dad is the Sheriff.” Stiles’ smile turned pained, “My mom is dead. It happened just after the Hale fire.”

The table was silent.

“I’m sorry to hear that Stiles. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.” Chris finally said.

“It’s fine.” Stiles shrugged. He pushed his fork around in the sauce left on his plate. “I’m just so used to everyone knowing about that that I forgot that you all are new in town, there’s no way you could have known.”

“Can I be excused for a moment?” Harley stood up. “I’ll be right back, just need to use the bathroom.” She escaped out of the room. Everyone else could hear her footfalls as she ascended the stairs.  
“Harley is a bit too empathetic at times.” Stiles said to fill the silence.

“Oh, speaking of that,” Allison jumped to change the topic “aren’t the two of you volunteering at the hospital?”

“Harley told you about that?”

“Yeah, while we were waiting for you to get back.”

“Yeah, I was delivering some flowers and other stuff to the patients in the long term care ward.” Stiles let out a long breath in relief, back in safe territory.

“That’s quite kind of you.” Chris was grudgingly impressed. “Most teenagers wouldn’t do that.”

“All due respect, but I don’t think you have met enough teenagers, Mr. Argent.” Stiles shot back, “Our school has an entire club devoted to volunteer work and it’s a fairly popular club.”

“Besides,” said Harley as she sat back down at the table, “Some of the patients in the long term care ward are super cool. Like Beatrice, she fought in WWII when she was sixteen because she lied about her age on her enlistment forms.”

“Yeah, Beatrice is insane!” Stiles picked up the thread. “One time, she had a commanding officer who was harassing one of the women in her squad for being a lesbian, so she went to a local farm where she was stationed and got a horse and a few goats and put them in the guy’s room while he was working. When he got to the room, the goats had chewed up everything, including all of his uniforms, the horse had broken most of his stuff--”

“And the room stank like you wouldn’t believe.” Harley finished with a passable imitation of Beatrice’s cackle.

Allison, Chris, and Victoria all laughed while Kate cackled loudly.

“Now that is a woman I wouldn’t mind meeting.” She said through her laughter.

“Oh, man, you have to take me next time you guys go.” Allison had tears streaming down her face.

“Yes, and on that note, I’ll be right back.” Stiles left for the bathroom at nearly breakneck speed. His exit sent more peels of laughter through the dining room.

The night finished on a high note when Chris brought out the desert. Harley and Stiles were both effusive in their praise of the food and Chris and Victoria had both cracked a smile at their antics before seeing them out the door.

The pair turned around to see their daughter’s hopeful face behind them.

“Well?” Allison asked.

Victoria and Chris looked at each other, having a silent conversation that was mainly trying to draw out Allison’s suspense.

“Oh come off it you two.” Kate called out, throwing an arm around Allison. “I like them and I know you do too, so just tell her.”

“I guess, they aren’t bad friends.” Victoria sighed.

“You could certainly do worse.” Chris agreed.

“Oh thank you!” Allison threw herself at her parents, wrapping them both in a hug.

Kate laughed at the antics of her family and went upstairs to her guest room. She went to go to her en-suite bathroom when she saw one of her bags was open. She strode over and pulled the bag further out from under the bed and wrenched the bag open. She pawed through it, checking all of her guns were there. When she saw they were, she sat back on her heels for a moment before looking at her bullets. Where she found two of her special rounds missing, instead of just one.

“Those little..” Kate growled under her breath, snapping the box shut.

“Kate?” Came Allison’s voice from the doorway. Kate pasted on a bright smile and turned to her niece.

“What’s up, kid?”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re really alright. When dad rushed outside last night I was worried.” Allison stepped into the room.

Kate stood up and moved to meet her, keeping Allison close to the door. She might not understand her brother’s desire to keep Allison out of the family business but she wasn’t going to risk him finding out that she was the one who told her.

“I’m fine, kid.” Kate assured, putting her hands on Allison’s upper arms. “I just needed a jump start.”

“A jump start?” Allison asked.

“Yeah, and now I need to take a shower soooooooo”

“Right, I’ll leave you to it then.” Allison gave her a small smile and left.

Kate blew out a breath and turned back to her gun bag. Which one was it? The boy, or the girl?

~~~~~~

Allison closed her room door and leaned against it. She took a deep breath, then pulled out her phone.

_To Stiles -- I think my family is lying to me._

_From Stiles -- what? How do you know? About what?_

_To Stiles -- I don’t know what about, but i just asked my aunt about the car trouble she had last n_ _ight_   
_To Stiles -- she just said it was a jump start she needed, when my dad said it was a flat tire_   
_To Stiles -- do you think I’m blowing this out of proportion?_

_From Stiles -- absolutely not. People lying about seemingly innocent things is never a good sign_   
_From Stiles -- I don’t want to cause trouble between you and your family, but if you think they’re_ _lying to you about something important, I think you should try and find out_   
_From Stiles -- I’ll help_

_To Stiles -- you don’t have to, it’s my family_

_From Stiles -- I want to, you’re my friend and I’ve always believed that knowing the truth is better_ _than not knowing_   
_From Stiles -- even if the truth hurts or is dangerous_

_To Stiles -- you’ll really help?_

_From Stiles -- yeah_

_To Stiles -- thanks_

_From Stiles -- no problem, I gtg_

_To Stiles -- sure, I’ll see you at school_

~~~~~

Stiles stood over a now healing Derek Hale and toyed with the empty bullet casing as he thought about Allison’s texts. Her family was probably hiding their hunter legacy from her for some reason. If he could get to her first, get her to understand that he was still a person, then maybe he wouldn’t have to choose between being her friend and survival. He would need to get Harley on board so that maybe she could find a binding ritual or a memory wiping charm if everything went south. He had meant what he had told her about not wanting to get between her and her family, but Kate had definitely shot Derek, and Mr. Argent might have helped. He also meant what he said about knowing the truth. Now that Derek was here, he might finally be able to get some answers about the fire.


	8. Chapter 8

When Derek woke up, things weren’t as he was expecting. Well, for one thing, he hadn’t thought he would wake up in the first place. Kate had shot him and the Alpha, Peter, his mind supplied, had disappeared. And wasn’t that news, Peter was an Alpha. Was the Alpha. He hadn’t recognize his uncle the first time they had met in the preserve, his uncle’s form twisted and his scent rancid. Something had changed, his form was healing and his scent was reverting back to what it used to be, except more powerful. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do with that.

 

It had been instinct that had him finding the only other wolf in town, a beta. He had walked out in front of the pup’s jeep, desperate. He had watched as the young wolf had slammed on the breaks and dragged him into the car, all of the pup’s babbling running together in a hazy sort of white noise. Then he was in a basement being tended to, not by the vet, but by some women.

 

He had lived in a grey void of pain, and only vague sounds and sensations pierced through the fog. He remembered when the pup’s scent came back. The ripping of metal. Fire. Smoke. Pain. Nothing.

 

And now he was here. In a small living room. On a surprisingly comfy couch. With one of the women in the chair next to his head, watching him.

 

“Good to see you back with us, Mr. Hale.” The woman said as she stood. She leaned over him, careful not to crowd, and pulled the blanket he had been covered with back over his shoulders. She patted it twice and then left the room. She returned with a tray in hand. She set it on the coffee table and he could see a steaming bowl of tomato soup and six grilled cheese sandwiches, as well as what his nose told him was a mug of hot chocolate.

 

“Eat up, Mr. Hale. You’ve been through an ordeal.” The woman said, retaking her seat and curling her legs under her.

 

Derek eyed the woman warily, but couldn’t resist the call of food. He sniffed each item before eating it, but found nothing as a cause for concern. He supposed he was being paranoid.

 

“You aren’t being paranoid, Mr. Hale.” He stiffened, turning to the woman who remained relaxed in her chair. “You are being cautious. It’s to be expected for a wolf in your position.”

 

“And what position is that?” He asked gruffly.

 

“Packless.” Her response was flip. “Injured and on the mend. I could try to assure you that I won’t bring you any harm, but I doubt you would believe me, even with your senses telling you I’m not lying. And that is your right.”

 

“Why are you helping me?” He asked, going back to his food while keeping an eye on her.

 

“I wasn’t. Not really. There is a young werewolf that I have grown rather fond of, and he asked me to help you.” She shrugged. Her ice blue eyes went sharp “If you cause trouble for him or my family, you will answer to me, Hale.”

 

“Where is he anyway?”

 

“School.” She said, relaxing again. “I’m sure that he will have plenty of questions for you once he gets off of work, and it would be in your best interest to answer them.”

 

“What, or you’ll kill me?”

 

“No.” She gave him a flat look. “He’s trying to get justice for your family, to put their murderer or murderers in jail.”

 

“Why?” Derek demanded.

 

“Because it will help heal his Alpha.” She stated. “I am going to help him so that together we can settle some of the ghosts in this town.”

 

Derek grew quiet. Plenty of the ghosts in Beacon Hills had nothing to do with him, but his family…

 

He sat back, letting out a long, measured sigh. He eyed the woman, who watched him back. Derek thought about his family. About his sister, who was dead, about his uncle who was healing, about the hunters in town. About the beta who had helped a stranger.

 

He laid down on the couch and curled back up underneath the blanket. Derek Hale spent the rest of the day resigning himself to being convicted of his family’s murder.

 

~~~~~

 

Stiles was bouncing through his shift at Treasures. He restocked books, took coffee orders from the regulars, and rang up customers while trying not to vibrate out of his skin. He reveled in the normalcy that was working a job while half of his mind was focused on the other werewolf just one building away.

 

Derek Hale wasn’t a face that he had expected to see, but it made sense that he was the other beta in the woods. He had been more than a bit surprised when the man had stumbled in front of his Jeep, but a look at his arms and the flash in Derek’s eyes had shoved all of his questions aside. 

 

He couldn’t wait to be done so that he could ask his questions, gently, of course, and maybe convince Derek to tell his dad so that he could get the whole your-son-is-now-a-werewolf conversation out of the way without as many issues.

 

“Boy, your bouncing is about to make _me_ sick.” Margo said, fondly exasperated. “It’s a wonder that you haven’t spilled anyone's coffee all over yourself yet. Go on, I’ll take care of the rest, just come by early tomorrow morning to help me sort the new books.”

 

“Yes ma’am.” Stiles saluted and hurriedly threw his apron on a peg and dashed up the back stairs and into the apartment.

 

He burst through the door to find Harley coming up the other stairs and Derek sitting on the couch, seemingly trying to give them both disappointed eyebrows at the same time.

 

“Hey, Derek.” Stiles said. The other man’s head snapped to him. He tried not to gulp. “You probably don’t remember me, but I was the kid who sat with you and Laura at the station.”

 

“And now you’re a werewolf.”

 

“Yep!” He popped the p as he tried to do with his nerves. “Would you mind coming with me to my house so that we can ask some questions about what happened.”

 

He was worried that Derek would refuse until the man stood up and pushed past him, going down the stairs without a backward glance. Stiles and Harley exchanged a look before following behind. All three of them piled into the jeep and Stiles drove them. The silence was deafening. Stiles could hear all three of their pulses ratchet up, and had to recall some of Claire’s deep breathing exercises to get them to his house without a panic attack.

 

His dad wasn’t going to be home until well after dinner, so the three of them had time. Stiles got them all settled in the living room. They stared at each other. Stiles tapped at his leg. Harley checked her phone. Derek gave them the eyebrows of doom.

 

“Sooooooo” Stiles took a deep breath. “Here’s what I already know for sure. The fire happened in the summer six years ago. The Hale family was gathered together for a family reunion. Everyone was there: grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, the whole family. They had come to your basketball game and Laura stayed behind to drive you home afterwards. When you got there, the entire house was already up in flames. Peter was found next to a broken window, badly burnt. The rest of the bodies were found in the basement. Peter went to the hospital. Laura was a legal adult and took charge of you, and the two of you moved away. Laura came back for some reason. She’s dead. You came back. You’re still a beta, so someone else killed Laura.”

 

Derek just stared at him. Harley also stared at him. Stiles’ attention was on Derek.

 

“Did I get anything wrong just now?” He asked.

 

“No.” Derek grunted.

 

Stiles nodded, not put off by the man’s gruff demeanor. “Let’s start from the end. Why did you come back to Beacon Hills?”

 

“Laura hadn’t answered her phone. I came to find her.”

 

“Do you know who killed her?” He asked.

 

“Peter.” Derek’s scent turned shocked as he registered the lack of surprise on the teenagers’ faces.

 

“Do you know why he killed her?”

 

“.....” Derek closed his eyes. Stiles could smell the turmoil rolling through him as the man tried to parse what he knew with what his grieving mind told him. Finally, he said, “She left him. She was Alpha and she left pack behind. Pack is important to Peter. Without it, he probably…”

 

Stiles decided to move to his next question. “Why did Laura come to Beacon Hills?”

 

“I don’t know.” Derek said, lost all of a sudden.

 

“Did the two of you ever visit Peter?” He was pretty sure he already knew the answer to this, but his wolf was clamoring for him to make certain.

 

“No.” Derek’s voice was a whisper.

 

“Do you know of any hunters who were in the area at the time of the fire?”

 

“Yes.” Derek growled, eyes flashing. His claws had come out and shredded the knees of his jeans, drawing blood before he took a deep breath and pulled back. “Kate Argent.”

 

Stiles and Harley shared a look.

 

“Did she burn down the Hale house?”

 

“Yes.” Derek panted out. “I helped her.”

 

“What?!?!?” Harley and Stiles cried in unison.

 

“I didn’t mean to.” Derek was hunched over in his chair, fingers digging into his now healed knees. “She and I were in a relationship. I told her about the reunion, and about the secret tunnel in the basement. She cheered for me at my basketball game.”

 

Stiles stared in horror.

 

“That bitch!” Harley screeched, leaping to her feet. Both men startled as she began pacing the length of the room. “That absolute bitch! How dare she do that! She murdered your entire family! There were kids in that house!”

 

Derek whined high in his throat. Both Stiles and Harley rushed to pull him into a hug.

 

“It wasn’t your fault Derek, do you hear me?” Harley said. Derek kept whining. She pulled at his chin, forced him to look at her. “Derek. Look at me. Listen to my heart. It. Was Not. Your. Fault. She manipulated you, abused you, and then hurt you in the worst possible way to hurt a werewolf. She was an adult who took advantage of a child and none of that is on you.”

 

“She’s right, Derek.” Stiles kept his voice low and soft. “All of this is on Kate and whoever helped her. You aren’t to blame. You were just a kid.”

 

“I should have known.” Derek whispered.

 

“There was no way you could have.” Harley assured. She drew her fingers through his hair and gave a slight smile when he settled slightly.

 

“None of this was on you, and we’re going to make this right. Together.” Stiles promised. “We’ll slap Kate with so many life sentences that she’ll never see the sun again.”

 

“Damn straight.” Harley agreed. “And then you and Peter won’t have to worry about it ever again.”

 

“Peter won’t forgive me.” Derek said.

 

“He’ll have to, you’re pack.” Stiles stated.

 

Derek looked at him, really looked. Stiles’ confidence, the way he said that they were pack like he truly believed it. He felt the pack bond sliding into place, could feel his own confidence grow as it echoed down the bond.

 

“Oh, wow.” Stiles breathed. A true pack bond snapped into place inside him. His wolf howled with joy at a pure connection, his first wolf pack mate.

 

“Yeah, it’s been a while since it felt like that.” There was something so pure about his and Stiles’ bond, something that had been missing since the fire.

 

Stiles didn’t feel like he could make any jokes about the tears leaking from Derek’s eyes, he was sure he was just as bad. It just, he just felt like he wasn’t alone anymore. He pulled Derek into a firmer hug, unsurprised when the other man’s arms came up to lock the two of them together as they cried. They both needed this.

 

When they finally pulled back, they shifted to the couch so that Harley could join in the cuddle fest.

 

“Derek, where are you staying right now?” Harley asked, playing absently with Derek’s fingers.

 

“The house.” Stiles and Harley both shot upright to give him mirrored incredulous stares.

 

“The Hale house?” Stiles’ voice raised incredulously.

 

“Nope, not anymore.” Harley stated. “You are staying with me and my moms until you and Peter can find a place that meets my standards.”

 

“But--”

 

“No.” She shoved a finger in his face. “I may not feel pack bonds like you can, but I’m still pack, and I’m not about to let my pack live in the burnt out shell of his trauma when I can do something about it. Give me your phone.”

 

Derek and Stiles both felt Harley’s pack bond solidify within them as she added her number and Stiles’ into Derek’s phone. She handed it back and flopped back into Derek’s side.

 

“There,” She mumbled into Derek’s shoulder “Now what’s for dinner?”

  
  
  


Stiles dropped Harley and Derek back at her house and reiterated his promise to Margo to be there before school the next morning. The three of them planned to tell his dad about the whole werewolves are real thing that Friday so that Derek would have a bit of time to settle in with the Thompson's before having to dive back into everything.

 

~~~~~

 

Harley was surprised at just how well Derek fit with her family. They had never redone her brother’s room after he moved out and got married, so they gave it to Derek to do as he pleased with it and everything in it that Cole had left behind. She had spent a quiet afternoon that Thursday going through all of the stuff with Derek. She took some of the pictures and books and a few of her brother’s stretched out shirts back to her room when they were done.

 

Derek seemed determined to be a good house guest. He insisted on helping wash the dishes, and he often spent time reading in the living room while Claire was reading and writing messages to various contacts and Margo was doing inventory for both shops. Harley even found herself plopping down on the couch next to him to play on her phone or her DS. It was like the quiet spaces in the house were waiting for him to come and fill them with, not sound, but company. Also heat. Harley, who was constantly a little bit cold, took advantage of the werewolf’s higher body temperature, shoving her frozen toes under his leg as they did their own thing.

 

All in all, it was different than life with her brother had been, but similar enough to make a small smile appear on her face every so often.

 

She had a big smile when her mother had forgotten to wash her hands after handling the wolfsbane and she was treated to Derek’s sneezing fit.

 

_ From Stiles - it’s so tiny!!!!! His sneezes are so. Damn. Small!!!!!!!!! _

 

_ To Stiles - I know!!!!!! I could barely handle it!!!!!!!!! _

 

_ From Stiles - THIS IS AMAZING _

 

_ To Stiles - I KNOW _

 

Derek still hadn’t been to visit Peter, but he promised he would think about going with them when they visited the man on the next new moon. He also agreed to go running with Stiles during the full moon, to help him with his senses and so they could look out for each other with hunters in town.

 

She felt sort of bad, not telling Derek about their friendship with Allison, but Stiles was sure she didn’t know about the supernatural and they both deserved a chance. If Allison was leading Stiles into a trap, she would be there, and she would protect him. They would all protect each other, they had a plan, they were pack. All she had to do was get the right stuff for her spells. She did hope, for Stiles’ sake and a bit for her own, that Allison was exactly what they thought she was, but she knew better than to go in blindly. Her mothers had taught her better, especially when there was an unbound druid in town.

 

When Friday rolled up with Stiles in his jeep, Harley took Derek’s hand for the entire trip to the Stilinski house and prayed to every god and goddess and deity that things would work out.

 

~~~~~

 

Noah knew something was up when his son was sitting with two people who only looked vaguely familiar on his couch. He stepped into the room and stared down at where his son and the girl were clutching the hands of the man between them tightly.

 

“What’s going on, Stiles.” A command.

 

“Dad,” Stiles paused. He breathed deep. “I need you to sit down and listen, okay?” Big, pleading eyes stared up at him.

 

Noah sighed and dropped into his recliner, wishing that he had a drink.

 

“What is it, son?”

 

“I-- The day before school started back up, I went out into the preserve to look for the dead body.” Stiles started.

 

“Stiles!” Noah sat straight “That was stupidly dangerous! What if you had been bit by one of the police dogs, or shot? What if whatever did it was still out there?”

 

“It was.” Stiles whispered.

 

Noah blinked. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Blinked again.

 

“What?” He choked out.

 

“The thing that killed that girl? That killed Laura Hale? It was out there, and it bit me. He bit me.” Stiles said.

 

“What do you mean? Stiles--”

  
  


~~~~~

 

“Dad, I’m a werewolf.” He let his wolf rise to the front, like Claire and Derek had been teaching him. He could feel his fangs come in and his claws grow. He was certain that his eyes were glowing and his eyebrows were gone.

 

He stared at his father. His father stared back. He slowly pulled the wolf back until his face was back to normal.

 

“Do it again.” Noah demanded. Stiles complied.

 

He watched his father go slack in disbelief, even as his eyes darted around, making new connections and reshaping his knowledge.

 

“Is this the man who bit you?” He asked, Sheriff voice out in full force.

 

“No, dad, this is Derek. Derek Hale.” Stiles said, pulling the wolf back once more. “He is a werewolf, but he wasn’t in town when I was bit. He has been helping me recently though.”

 

“How recently is recently?” the sheriff questioned.

 

“A few days.”

 

“He saved my life.” Derek cut in. Everyone startled at the interjection. “I had been shot by a hunter with a poison bullet and running on instinct, I went to the only other werewolf I knew about. He got me help, and I’m fine now.”

 

“You were shot?” the sheriff was incredulous.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Werewolves heal really, really fast.” Harley took over. “Once the bullet was out, and the poison cured, his wounds had healed completely by the next morning.”

 

“Why were you shot? Was it a hunting accident?”

 

“The only accident, if it was an accident, was that I was hit and not the alpha.” Derek replied.

 

“Peter was there? You didn’t mention that.” Stiles perked up at the information.

 

“He was there.” Derek confirmed. “And he was a lot better than he was at the full moon, I actually recognized him this time.”

 

“So Kate was shooting at Peter and hit you instead?” Stiles asked.

 

“It makes sense.” Harley added. “Alpha’s are a lot faster than betas so if they were in the same sight line then it could happen.”

 

“Whoa, wait, slow down.” Noah put his hands up. Derek, Harley, and Stiles went quiet. “Let me try to wrap my head around this: you three are werewolves--”

 

“Two.” Harley interrupted. “I’m not a werewolf. I’m a witch in training.”

 

“Right, of course you are.” He said sardonically. “So, two werewolves and a witch in training, one of whom is my own son, are telling me that there is another, bigger werewolf, and a hunter who is trying to kill that werewolf for some reason, running around my town.”

 

“That’s the very bare basics, yes.” Stiles said. “But, it gets worse.”

 

“Of course it does.” Noah sighed. “Well, lay it on me.”

 

The three of them, well, mostly Stiles and Harley, took turns telling the sheriff about recent events, as well as those surrounding the Hale house fire. By the end of their story, the sheriff’s face looked as grim as a Black Dog.

 

“This is some heavy stuff, kid.” Noah finally said.

 

“I know, which is why we’re hoping you can help.” Stiles replied. “Let me get Peter’s answer before you move to question him, I don’t want him hurting you.”

 

“What if he hurts you?” Noah cried.

 

“He won’t.” Stiles said confidently. “He hasn’t before, and like Derek said, he’s getting better. I just don’t want to risk that he is still too hurt that he’ll lash out at you for bringing up painful memories. Once we know that he’s healed and on board, then you can see him. Although,” He tilted his head in thought, “If you wanted to do something for Peter, you could look into his nurse.”

 

“His nurse?” Noah asked.

 

“Oooooh, creepy Mc-Liar lady?” Harley cut in. “Yeah, there is definitely something wrong with her. She refuses to quit, even though you can tell she hates her job, and Beatrice keeps pranking her. She is only attentive to Peter, according to Beatrice. And that attentiveness apparently only started happening after Laura died and Peter became Alpha.”

 

“Okay, so creepy nurse who may be planning to do something with Peter. Kate Argent and all of her dealings. What about the rest of the Argent family?” Noah looked to be making a list in his head.

 

“Allison doesn’t know.” Stiles stated.

 

“Oh really?” Noah’s eyebrow rose. “And how are you so sure?”

 

“Well,” Stiles hedged, “I don’t know for certain, but her family lied to her about what happened to Kate on the night she shot Derek. And she doesn’t smell like wolfsbane like the rest of her family does. Her parents don’t smell as much as Kate did, but there was still more lingering around them than her.”

 

“But her parents know.”

 

“The Argent’s are a prominent hunting family.” Derek said. “They are the reason people say that silver hurts werewolves. Chris was definitely raise as a hunter, and his wife should be the head of their hunter clan as his mother is dead.”

 

“So hunter clans are matriarchal?” Stiles asked.

 

“Yes. If Allison is an adult when Victoria dies, and she knows about the supernatural, she will be the head of the family.” Derek confirmed.

 

“This is like some mafia shit.” Harley murmured. 

 

“You’re telling me.” Noah sighed.


End file.
